


A Family You Choose

by MathiasWhitehouse



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Emotional Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 18:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19090654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathiasWhitehouse/pseuds/MathiasWhitehouse
Summary: Iceland was caught! After secretly dating for months they were found out and it might have just cost him the only family he has ever known. Fed up with Norway and Denmark, Iceland has had enough. Luckily for him, there is a mismatched couple willing to adopt him and take him under their wings. How will Sweden and Iceland deal with the threats from his brother? CrackPair, OOC, Slash





	1. Caught!

_Chapter One: Caught!_

Iceland let out a content sigh as he allowed himself to curl up comfortably into the cushioned armchair he had seated himself in as soon as he was sure the house was empty. The rest of the Nordics, namely Norway and Denmark, had all been supposedly called away on some form of business with their respective governments leaving the youngest alone. Taking advantage of the rare opportunity, Iceland had vacated his room, being able to sit in the living room in peace. He wouldn’t have to listen to Denmark’s scathing remarks and jokes, nor put up with Norway’s irritating overprotective antics and Finland’s excessive chatter about nothing at all.

Those were just a few of the reasons why the Icelandic nation stowed away in his room for the most part, he was beginning to feel smothered by all of the mollycoddling his self-proclaimed brothers were giving him on an almost daily bases. He was beginning to resent them. Just because he was the youngest of the Nordic five as their small group was known as, didn’t mean that he was incapable of dealing with his own politics and leading his own life without the constant hovering!

Well he was only released and recognised as a full sovereign nation in 1918 but that didn’t have to mean he was ignorant to the running of his own nation.

Soon Iceland found himself pulled away from the book he was supposed to be reading and subsequently his thoughts by the sounds of the front door being carefully opened and closing seconds later with a soft click. Light footsteps could be heard echoing down the hallway as they made their way towards the living room. Uncurling himself from his comfortable position on the chair, Iceland watched with baited breath as a tall figure walked confidently into the room making their way to himself. A small welcoming smile made its way to the small nations face as he watched the other return the gesture immediately.

As soon as the taller male had crossed the large living room he crouched down slightly, resting his briefcase on the floor at the side of the chair before brushing a soft chaste kiss to the Icelandic nation’s lips before pulling back to gaze into sparkling violet eyes.

“I’m back, Is.”

“Welcome home, Svi. How was your meeting?”

Iceland chuckled breathlessly at Sweden who crinkled his nose up unhappily, the noise soon turned into a squeak of surprise when Iceland found himself being picked up from his seat only to be placed on the older man’s lap when he stole the chair.

“Long.”

He offered up once he had made himself comfortable in the seat, sighing almost happily when Iceland leant back into his warm body, the younger making himself comfortable in his new perch against a firm chest while strong arms responded by wrapping themselves securely around a thin waist.

“Well at least it is over, and you are in much better company now.”

Iceland offered a cheeky grin to the Swede who simply grunted in response, leaning his head forward Sweden happily rests his chin upon the smaller nation’s shoulder relaxing completely after his almost disastrous meeting with the government. He closed his eyes as the two sat listening to the crackle of the fire which was echoing through the silent room as its only occupants relished in the others company.

“Hey, Svi?”

Iceland questions softly, not wanting to break the peaceful atmosphere of the room.

“Hmmm?”

“Do you know when Noregur and Danmörk said they were coming home?”

Sweden shook his head at the younger nation’s enquiry, not entirely sure why Iceland was asking about his brother and the other Nordic but shrugging it off as just a simple question. He was startled though, when Iceland smiles brightly at his answer, being careful not to dislodge himself from the others grip, the younger nation turns around placing a knee on either side of the large man’s hips straddling him comfortably. He sends a small mischievous smirk to his partner, the expression dancing across his pale lips making the Swede raise a blond eyebrow in response.

“I missed you, Svi.”

Iceland mumbles, Sweden can feel a heavy blush dusting itself across his pale cheeks at the emotions flickering in the younger nation’s violet eyes. Tugging him closer the Swedish man places a loving kiss to his partner’s lips offering up a rare, affectionate smile to the other as he responds softly.

“Missed you too, Is.”

The Northern nation smiles widely at the man whose lap he was seated in before leaning forward slowly, he watches almost in a trance as Sweden’s blue eyes slide closed, as the others face tilts to the right slightly before closing his own eyes as their lips meet once more. This time, however, it was not as chaste. Their lips move together with practised ease, like a dance reserved solely for the other to indulge in, one which had been practise on multiple occasions to perfect.

Sweden found himself relaxing into the familiar movement, one of his larger hands being placed on the lower back of the man in his lap pulling him that much closer, trying to eliminate the still barely there space between their bodies. While his other hand cups the smaller cheek caressing the smooth pale bones beneath his thumb lovingly.

Iceland responds enthusiastically, having missed this close contact as the pair could rarely find time to be alone together as of late. He began running his thin delicate fingers through the short blond tuffs, feeling its silky texture as it tangles around said fingers. He sighs happily when the feeling of a warm, wet tongue swipes gently across his lower lip before it is pulled between teeth. The older man worries Iceland’s lip between his teeth for a second before smoothing the already bruising skin with his tongue.

Iceland gasps at the sudden spark of pleasure which shoots down his spine at the gentle caress making him shiver slightly, and open his mouth invitingly. He feels his lips smiling when Sweden tilts his head more, deepening the already erotic kiss as his tongue slowly slithers its way into the younger one’s mouth. He runs his tongue against Iceland’s enticing it into a more intimate dance. The warm appendixes twirl around each other, stroking, teasing as both men feel the beginnings of arousal sparking through their already slightly frazzled nerves. They shift even closer together, this time leaving not a hairs-breath between their clothed bodies as they clutch to each other desperately. 

The white-haired man gasps once more when he feels cold, calloused fingers slipping beneath the fabric of his jumper, stroking the sensitive skin of his lower back brushing just above the waist band of his jeans teasingly. Moaning as those fingers trace the dimple there, Iceland tugs sharply on the blond strands detaching his lips from the others, smirking at the whimper of loss from the older man, he attaches his now free mouth to the pale skin which is peeking out from the man’s collared shirt.

Sweden allows a moan of pleasure to pass through his lips at his younger lover’s actions, delighting at the feeling of Iceland’s teeth nipping playfully at the skin of his neck just above the hammering of his pulse. His rising arousal making him that much more sensitive.

“Is.”

A deep voice murmurs into the pale white-blond hair when his earlobe is sucked into an eager mouth, before being released just as quickly and this is when Sweden realises that his young partner is enjoying the control he has over Sweden, pleased that he can entice such a reaction from the usually stoic nation. A soft question hum comes from the small nation buried in his neck at the murmur.

Shifting in the chair they were still seated in, Sweden grips Iceland’s hair softly, tugging the younger man away from his likely bruised neck, claiming the soft lips once more subjecting the smaller man into a bruising kiss full of longing, desire, love and deep burning passion.

Both moan loudly as their lips close around each other once more, the kiss a frenzy of tongues and teeth as their hips begin to move together, the sparks of pleasure shooting through their veins at the friction. Neither of them are paying attention to the world around them as they lose themselves in the arousal, the feel of the other against them. They don’t notice when Iceland’s book falls from its place on the arm of the chair at their eager movements. Nor do they notice the fading crackle of the fire as the flames slow down into bright embers. They don’t hear the front door opening nor when it closes seconds later, the sound of footsteps heading in their direction doesn’t even break through the bubble surrounding them.

Their world simply consists of only the other as they bath in the passion building between them as hands move beneath clothes drifting along heated skin as the fiery throngs of pleasure, which has begun to zip through each and every cell within their bodies at their exploration.

That is until…

“What the hell is going on here?”

Abruptly broken out of their loving daze, Iceland rips his mouth from Sweden’s who just manages to prevent a whine of protest from leaving his throat. The younger turns his head to look over his shoulder before jumping up from Sweden’s lap desperately as his face turns bright red upon spotting not only his older brother standing in the doorway but also Denmark and Finland. All three were looking upon the scene with confusion and astonishment.

Iceland and Sweden exchange an embarrassed and slightly worried glance, both nervous at the reaction of their fellow Nordics seen as none of them knew of their relationship and the scene they had come face to face with was not ideal. Iceland and Sweden were both flushed, their breathing was laboured as their chests heaved with trying to pull in some much-needed oxygen, their lips were swollen and bruised and their appearances were dishevelled.

“Noregur.”

Iceland breathed quietly, dreading the response from his older brother probably more so than the other nations even with one of them being Sweden ex-wife. Valiantly trying not to look at the widening smirk on Denmark’s face and the deepening blush which was starting to spread across Finland’s cheeks; Iceland takes a deep breath before looking Norway directly in the eyes. Refusing to be intimidated by the black glare his partner was currently receiving.

“Island? Care to explain what you were doing?”

Iceland has to prevent himself from snorting with laughter at the question. Seriously, how was Norway expecting him to answer such a stupid question posed by the older nation, when he had clearly witnessed what he and Sweden had been up to just seconds previous.

“Ummm. Kissing Svíþjóð…”

Denmark quickly brings a hand up to cover his mouth attempting to stifle to snickers from behind Norway, at the monotonous tone of the youngest Nordic. Finding his answer amusing, though he quickly closes his mouth at the black glare Norway turns his way before facing Iceland once again. Norway crosses his arms, not amusing in the slightest by his younger brother’s cheek.

“Yes, I could see that.”

Norway raises an eyebrow at his younger brother, who simply responds with an emotionless mask, the flush having disappeared from his cheeks and his breathing finally getting under control.

“Well what else did you expect me to say? You asked me a stupid question so I decided to answer with the obvious. If you didn’t want a stupid response you should have specified.”

Iceland raised a white eyebrow at his older brother, smirking at the growing red splotches which were beginning to appear on the usually pale cheeks and the anger which was burning in mostly expressionless eyes. He knows that he probably shouldn’t be winding his brother up like this but what he did with his life outside of business wasn’t really any of his brother’s concern. It wasn’t like Norway divested every single detail of his own life to the others anyway so why did he think Iceland should.

“What I meant was _why_ the hell were you kissing Sverige!”

Iceland looks at his brother in what could only be described as exasperation before changing a quick glance at Sweden who, besides composing himself, was watching Norway with a wary expression. Finland had scampered off into the kitchen for refreshments, but Iceland thought that he just wanted to escape the growing tension as Norway and Denmark finally step into the front room. After a few seconds of silence, Norway grips his arms in white knuckles, his foot starting to tap an impatient rhythm on the floor.

“Well?”

Iceland looks back at his brother sighing heavily as he shakes his head, he looks mournfully at Norway as he brushes a hand through his hair before mimicking the other by crossing his arms over his chest staring defiantly at the older nation.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say, Noregur. Would you prefer I tell you that Svíþjóð and I are dating or that we were both bored and decided to shag to pass the time? I have no idea why this has anything to do with you though seen as it is my life and the last time I check I was an independent nation. Which means that you do not get to dictate my life Noregur and I would appreciate it if you would stop trying to control every little thing I do.”

“Oh, it seems like little Icey has finally grow a pair! Isn’t he growing up so fast.”

Denmark coos mockingly, snickering to himself as Iceland turns to glare at the Danish nation, hating the fact that despite Norway always going on about protecting his little brother he would allow his friend to continuously bully and belittle him. Refusing to sink to the level of older nations childish antics, Iceland simply turns his attention back to Norway who was glaring fiercely.

“I disagree, Island. I am your guardian which means that you will do as I say! I only want to protect you Lille bror and I cannot do that if I do not know what you are doing and who you are with, where. I am not trying to control you but trying to keep you out of harm’s way! If that means locking you in your room unless you are needed for world meeting and country duties then so be it!”

“I am no longer a colony Noregur! I can take care of myself well enough and you can bloody well bet that I am under no obligation to tell you everything that goes on in my life. If you are wanting me to tell you every detail then I expect you to start, lead by example eh Noregur? This is why I never told you about Svi and I because we knew that you would react like this! I knew you wouldn’t approve, no matter what we told you! All we wanted was some time to settle into OUR relationship before you barge your way in demanding answers and ruin everything!”

“I don’t care what you thought you were doing! Or what you thought I would believe and how I would act! I refuse to allow you to date him! It is out of the question, I am putting my foot down Island! You are not allowed to date that man and that is final!”

“Hvað? You cannot be serious! I will date whoever I want to date and you don’t have a bloody say in the matter so get used to it! I am my own country now Noregur, you do not have any control over me anymore and I refuse to let you dictate my life anymore!”

Norway, having lost all patience with the conversation, storms over to his younger brother who now looks at his rapidly approaching brother with trepidation. Face burning red with anger and frustration, eyes flashing with barely repressed fury he grips Iceland by the elbow violently, dragging the resisting nation out of the room harshly ignoring the cries of both surprise and pain.

“You live under my roof, Island and when I tell you not to do something you will not do it! I am not allowing you to date Sverige and you have no say in the matter! I don’t want to know any stupid reasons as to why you thought keeping this from me was a good idea but I am ending this now!”

Iceland struggles in his brother’s vice like grip knowing that his arm was going to be bruised later, he protests his brother’s words but they fall on deaf ears. Being hurled out of the sitting room with brutal force. Iceland feels the beginnings of fear rising when Norway throws him towards the stairs causing him to fall against them painfully. His knees hit against the edge with a resounding thud as his forehead smashes against the end of the banister making his eyes blur and his vision fuzzy.

Turning shakily towards Norway, Iceland has to force himself not to break out into fearful tears as he looks up into his brother’s face. Never had his brother turned violent with him, no matter what it was that he had done or said in the past but here he was, curled up on the floor after being tossed there by Norway.

“You will go up to your room and wait there for me! I will deal with you later!”

Norway snarls the words out between clenched teeth before turning abruptly and storming back into the front room, the door slamming behind him making Iceland wince at the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet house. The thick wood blocking out any chance of the Island nation overhearing the discussion going on behind its surface. Shuddering at the thought of what Norway meant by, deal with him later, Iceland climbs to his feet wobbling on his quivering legs. Gripping hold of the banister to keep himself steady, the young nation begins to limp his way up the stairs, his knees screaming in agony as his vision continues to swim with each step.

After a very long and painful trek to his room, Iceland slams the door shut before locking it from the inside knowing that if Norway were to try and open it, it should hold true. Feeling that the wooden structure would at least protect him from his older brother, Iceland finally allows his tears to fall. Collapsing onto his bed, the young Nordic nation buries his face into his pillow ignoring the words of his Puffin as he clutches the fabric in his shaking fists, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

He didn’t know how long he cried for but by the times his tears ceases, his eyes were stinging, red and puffy matching the ache of the rest of his body.

Wiping the remnants of tears from his cheeks, Iceland slowly pulls himself up so that he is resting against the headboard wanting to check the time on his phone. Reaching over to his bedside table Iceland, upon glancing at the screen, allows himself to smile slightly once realising that he received multiple texts from both Sweden and Hong Kong.

Desperate to know what had transpired downstairs once he had been escorted out of the room, Iceland hastily opens the chat between Sweden and himself, scrolling to the first message he received over an hour ago. Reading the text slowly, allowing his addled mind to process each word individually before feeling his heart break within his chest.

**_Hey, Island, I am sorry for not talking to you before I left but Norge kicked me out of the house before I go the chance. I wanted to inform you about what was said during the conversation between Me Denmark and Norway so I will have to text you._ **

**_Island? I don’t think our relationship is going to work out in the long term, I am sorry that I couldn’t tell you this in person._ **

**_I want you to know that I still have feelings for you but it just isn’t going to work out between us. I would rather keep you as a friend and my alliances with Norge and Danmark than lose you forever. I hope you can forgive me, Is._ **

Blinking back another wave of fresh tears, Iceland turns his attention to the messages his friend Hong Kong had sent him, hoping that whatever Hong Kong had written would make him feel better and take his mind from the pain growing in his chest, even slightly.

Opening the message with growing trepidation, Iceland tries to read them through his tears but it is increasingly difficult when he finally loses the fight and they start to fall down his cheeks rapidly.

**_Hey Ice, we haven’t spoken in a while. How are you doing? You wouldn’t believe where I currently am! Just made it to China’s house, gonna stay here for a few weeks, how awesome is that!_ **

**_Icey, you wouldn’t believe what my old man just told me! England has been given time off and is going to be staying with us! Cannot believe it!_ **

**_Hey Ice? Is everything alright? You haven’t responded and it has been over 2 hours? Answer me as soon as possible._ **

Iceland allows a breathless chuckle to escape at his friend’s obvious excitement, pleased that Hong Kong is having such a good time with both his parental figures, spending time with the people who looked after him and cared for him unconditionally. Rereading the final message, Iceland quickly types out a response, not wanting his friend to worry too much. He thinks about what he wants to tell his friend, reiterating the events which had happened just a few hours prior.

He explains Norway’s reaction to finding out about his relationship with Sweden, after finding them in such a position; the overly violent reaction the other had had and the subsequent messages from Sweden. He expresses his worries with staying in the house while Norway was still angered and divulges his panic over his painful bruising.

Fully expecting the onslaught of frantic messages from the other nation, Iceland still feels a comforting warmth spreading through his chest at both the worry and the care which Hong Kong was showing for him as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

**_Don’t worry Icey, I explained some things to Mǔqin and Fuqin and they said that it would be alright if you came to stay with us for a while, until everything has calmed down and you feel safe enough to return. They pretty much demanded it actually!_ **

**_They are allowing me to come and get you!_ **

**_Will be there as soon as I can, Ice_ **

**_Make sure to pack enough for 3 weeks as you will be staying with us until at least the world meeting in 2 weeks’ time! Try to stay away from Norway as much as possible until I can get you out of there!_ **

Iceland laughs once more at the fact that Hong Kong was calling China and England his mother and father even though, last time Iceland heard, the two had separated. He could feel that warmth from earlier spread through his numb limbs at the thoughtfulness of his friends and the acceptance of both England and China allowing him to stay in their home without many questions.

Iceland sits on his bed for a few seconds, resting his aches for a bit longer before dragging himself of the bed slowly. Creeping as quietly as possible, Iceland sneaks across the hall into the adjacent bathroom praying that Norway was already in bed and that he would at least wait until tomorrow to have hid discussion, seen as it was already late.

Not that he was going to open the door for the man anyway.

Quickly showering under the hot water, trying to ease some of the pain away, Iceland runs back across the hall slamming his bedroom door shut and locking it once more before breathing a deep sigh of relief. Crossing over to his draws, Iceland dresses in a pair of warm pyjamas before sliding under his covers.

He would pack his bags tomorrow.

Two days later, as promised, Hong Kong climbs up the side of the large house, using the tree as support he slips through an open window in his friend’s room. The Asian nation looks around the room for Iceland, spotting his friend’s small frame still curled up under the covers of his bed. Rolling his eyes, Hong Kong slowly approaches the bed, throwing back the covers before pulling the small European nation into a tight embrace feeling the shivers racking up and down the thin body.

“Hey Ice, how are you dealing?”

Upon not receiving a response, Hong Kong pulls back to glance at the man in his arms giving hi m a once over and frowning at the state his friend was in. Iceland’s skin was paler than usual; his eyes were sunken slightly surrounded by the beginnings of black bags indicating that he hadn’t been sleeping properly. The usual violet orbs were bloodshot, red and puffy as if the younger Nordic nation had spent the past two days crying. His form was also skinnier than last time Hong Kong had seen him showing he hadn’t eaten properly since before he had sent the messages either.

“Hey Icey? Did you pack your things? I want to get you out of here as soon as possible.”

The smaller teen pulls away reluctantly from his friends soothing embrace, his dull violet eyes blinking a few times rapidly before focusing on the Asian teen in front of him. He offers a small smile while rubbing his stinging eyes gently, feeling comforted by the worried frown his friend was directing towards himself.

“Hey Hong. I am holding as well as expected. Noregur has been hammering on my door at all hours trying to get me to come out and talk to him. I don’t want to see him Hong, I am terrified of what he is going to do and say to me.”

Almost subconsciously Iceland brushes his fingers against the black bruise painted across his forehead, Hong Kong gasps his eyes going wide at the injury. Bringing his hand up to brush the injury gently he locks gazes with Iceland.

“This is from he pushed you? What about your knees and your arms? He must have left some marks there as well with how hard he would have had to grab you!”

Hong Kong panicked slightly upon seeing the equally as dark bruises decorating Iceland’s elbow, five finger shaped injuries, and the once circling his knees. Iceland however, shrugs off the concern.

Pulling himself painfully from his perch on the bed, the white-haired teen walks slowly towards his wardrobe glad that his vision had stopped blushing. Pulling some clothes from the hangers in his wardrobe unfazed by the worried gaze of Hong Kong he dresses quickly.

Hong Kong watches as Iceland pulls two bags from under his bed each packed with whatever the Icelandic teen would need for the next couple of weeks. Shaking his head with playful exasperation, Hong Kong grabs one of the bags, flinging it over his shoulder before strolling towards the window.

Turning to face Iceland he smiles brightly.

"Well come on, Ice. Mǔqin and Fŭqin are expecting us back soon.”

“I’m coming.”

Hong Kong watches carefully as Iceland places a pre-written note on his bedside table before following the Asian nation out the window both trying to be as silent as possible lest Norway spot them.


	2. Acceptance?

_Chapter Two: Acceptance_

It didn’t take as long as Iceland had first expected to make their way to China’s house, though that might have been due to them being nations and had the ability to walk between each other’s houses with ease, something he had never figured out. Iceland made sure to keep pace with Hong Kong despite the remaining aches in his muscles and the headache which was pounding behind his eyes. He tries valiantly to fight through the exhaustion clouding his brain, something which was trying to make him collapse in the middle of the street but he pushed through. The sole thought of making it to somewhere safe, a place where he would, hopefully, not be judged for who he wanted to date of how he wanted to live his life.

He almost cries with relief once China’s house came into his view. He watches through bleary eyes as the door was slammed open by a worried looking England as soon as they had stepped onto the driveway. The blond watches the two teens approach, concern shining in his emerald eyes as they scan over his son first before skirting towards his fellow European nation. Shouting something Iceland couldn’t catching back into the house, England rushes forward.

Taking the bag from Iceland slackened grip, he hands it to his son with instructions to place both items of luggage into the living room to be sorted out later. The Brit, after handing the bag to Hong Kong, quickly picks Iceland up in his arms, carrying the exhausted teen into the house bridal style.

Iceland didn’t protest when his belongings were taken, nor did he make a sound when he was lifted off the ground. He merely snuggled into the strong arms which were wrapped around his small frame, holding him against a firm warm chest. The sound of a steadily beating heart was thumping next to his ear lulling him into a welcoming sleep which he had not had the pleasure of greeting for the past few days. He lets out a sigh of content as he feels the chill of the night bleed away into the comforting warmth of the house.

He finds himself protesting when the warm body he was curled into moves away, probably in order to lay him down on a sofa of something similar. He hears a whimper escape his throat when the strong arms loosen their grip and he forces his tired limbs to grip the person tightly, snuggling back into the warmth of the body.

Hearing a warm chuckle break through his clouded mind, Iceland allows himself to relax once that warm chest is back against his side, the pounding of the heart is beating against his ear once more. He feels the person moving carefully supposedly sitting down on the sofa, cradling his aching body closer to themselves brushing his hair away from his forehead softly.

“Iceland?”

Forcing his heavy eyes open reluctantly at the soft voice and finds himself smiling tiredly into the worried face of England, sighing quietly he rests his head against the others thin shoulder.

“How do you feel, Iceland?”

Iceland furrows his eyebrows in thought at the question, turning his head to the right he comes across deep brown eyes, much like Hong Kong’s watching amused as they were racking his body for any visible injuries other than the vibrant bruise on his face.

Humming, Iceland finds himself wanting to be as honest as possible with these nations, seen as they are allowing him to stay with them for a couple of weeks, looking back up at England Iceland opens his mouth to answer.

“I’m tired and cold and in pain and scared.”

“He watches detached as England and China share a look of concern which touches his heart. Never having seen the younger European nation so open and expressive, even when arguing with his fellow Nordics during a meeting the two older nation turn their focus back on the exhausted teen.

“Why are you scared, Bīngdăo?”

It was China’s voice breaking its way through the fog this time, Iceland muses inwardly. Turning his gaze towards the ancient Asian nation, tucking himself tighter into the secure embrace which held him before he whimpers out a quiet.

“Noregi.”

Alarmed looks pass between England and China this time but Iceland wasn’t paying much attention as he was finally giving in to the call of sleep, struggling to keep his heavy eyelids open as the pain in his head and body starts to relax slightly with the warmth in the room. The steady thump of England’s heart dragging him further into the welcoming arms of sleep, Iceland finally lets himself fall.

“Iceland? Why are you so scared of Norway? What happened?”

England asks but sighs fondly at the sight of the younger nation fast asleep in his lap, his small fists gripping the material of his shirt tightly. Turning his attention of Iceland, England focuses on his son, raising one of his large eyebrows in question.

Hong Kong looks between his friend whose knuckles had turned white with the strength of his grip on his father’s shirt to the green eyes of said nation helplessly.

“Well Ice told me that Nuówēi caught him and Ruìdiǎn kissing in the living room a few days ago, that was when I spoke to you about having him stay with us. Nuówēi was furious and started shouting at both but Bīngdǎo said that he was sick of Nuówēi always trying to control his life so he stood up to him this time. He was defending his relationship because he truly loves Ruìdiǎn, anyone who has seen them together could see that. Nuówēi was so angry that he grabbed Bīngdǎo’s arm, there are bruises near his elbow as well.”

The two older nations, startled by the story already, quickly but gently tug the sleeves of Iceland’s shirt up to his elbow and gasp at the angry looking finger-shaped bruises decorating the pale skin. Turning their attention back to their son, they are shocked to see Hong Kong’s brown eyes shining with the beginnings of tears as his gaze fixes on the injury. Iceland, as if feeling the heavy gazes, whimpers in his sleep tugging himself closer to England who absent-mindedly runs a hand through the boy’s hair smiling softly as he settles back down.

“Anyway, Nuówēi pulls Bīngdǎo out of the sitting room, he throws him across the hall towards the stairs which causes Bīngdǎo to fall against them quite hard. He hits his knees against the edge of one leaving bruises there and it is also where the bruise of his forehead came from. He said he was dizzy for a while after the incident as well.”

England and China look down at the young boy sadly, they had never known the Norwegian nation to be so violent against anyone besides Denmark when he wasn’t at war but then again, they hadn’t really associated with the Northern most nations of Europe before.

“Why does it look like he hasn’t eaten or slept since then, aru?”

China spies his son’s crestfallen expression and quickly guides Hong Kong into the space before himself, he wraps his arms around the boy rubbing his hand up and down Hong Kong’s back rocking the young nation back and forth as he tries to formulate a response.

“It’s because he hasn’t.”

At the looks he receives from his parents, Hong Kong takes a deep breath, keeping his eyes transfixed on the pale skin of his friend’s face, burrowing into China’s arms as he expands in a mournful tone.

“When Bīngdǎo finally manages to make his way up to his room to get away from his brother, Nuówēi had gone back into the front room to talk with Ruìdiǎn. A few hours later, Bīngdǎo decides to check his phone and finds a couple of messages from Ruìdiǎn, he tells Bīngdǎo that their relationship was never going to work out in the long run and that he was breaking up with him. Bīngdǎo was heartbroken.”

China and England look down once more at the small bundle curled up in England’s lap both feeling their heart going out for the other European nation. England tugs the teenager closer holding him tightly against his chest desperately wanting to comfort the sleeping nation as much as he could without waking him from what could only be the first uninterrupted sleep he has had in the past three days.

“Don’t worry so much, Érzi. We wiwll take care of Bīngdǎo, he will be right as rain in no time. He is going to need someone who will not judge him for feeling this way after such events, your father and I will be able to assist him with this. He needs parental figures who will care for him without being over-bearing because if I am correct those Nordics are incredibly over-protective and suffocating.”

“So, he is going to be okay?”

China chuckles softly at his son’s hopeful expression glad that Hong Kong was such a good friend for Iceland who clearly needed all the support he could get at the moment. He places an affectionate kiss to the corner of Hong Kong’s eyebrow smiling at the quiet hum of contentment from the younger boy.

“Yes, Jia Long, Bīngdǎo will be just fine. Trust us.”

Hong Kong hugs China tightly around the waist, nodding his head against the other chest before lifting to rest his head comfortably on the older nation’s shoulder. Kneeling between the man’s legs happily.

“I do trust you, Mǔqin. But how are you and Fuqin gonna be able to help him if you don’t understand what he is feeling, he is going through a bad heartbreak, right?”

England chuckles at the look of exasperation which crosses China’s face at Hong Kong’s words, shaking his head at the European nation he gives a mock glare.

“It is your fault Hong Kong got into the habit of calling me mother. I hope you are happy with yourself, Yingguo.”

The younger nation merely smiles impishly at his partner, nodding his head cheerfully while ruffling Hong Kong’s hair affectionally making the youngest laugh breathlessly. He loved watching his parents whenever they were together, it was refreshing to see them getting along so well.

“Oh, I am, Love .You have to admit that he isn’t wrong, you are the more maternal one in our relationship.”

England shifts in his seat upon the sofa, holding Iceland with one arm he stretches the other along the back of the seat before wrapping it around China’s shoulders. Drawing the other into his side, and subsequently Hong Kong who was still seated between his mother’s legs. The Englishman places a chaste kiss to the blushing Asian man’s temple, both wearing equally as soft smiles.

“To answer your question, son. It is because we both went through the same thing when we separated, in all honesty, it was one of the worst times in my history. I felt like I would never be happy again. It was like my entire world had come to a standstill and it wasn’t until I let go of my pride and practically begged your Mǔqin for his forgiveness did that pain start to alleviate.”

China nods along with England’s recounter, his eyes holding the reminiscent of pain those few short memories held, the worry and despair they both had to undergo through the break off from their marriage and their long partnership which had ended with the birth of Hong Kong. The shadows Hong Kong spotted made him hope that he never had to go through anything like that during his lifetime.

He had seen how happy his parents were whenever they were together, how carefree they acted when there were no other nations around to judge them. He saw how much it hurt them to pretend that they hated each other at the world meetings to make sure that they left alone to enjoy their peace with each other.

A small groan brings the family back to the present as their attention is drawn to the European nation whose eyebrows were furrowed as if fighting against the insistent pull of consciousness. His violet eyes peel open slowly blinking rapidly in the light shining through the room until they adjust. He allows his eyes to scan quickly through the room he was in, confusion shaping his features before he feels a hand brushing his hair from off his forehead causing him to look up into the smiling face of England.

“How do you feel now, Iceland?”

“Slightly better, a little hungry actually but better. Pakka Pér fyrir.”

England smiles fondly at the still sleepy Iceland who blushes when he finally realises the position he is in but shrugs any concerns off because he figures that for once he doesn’t particularly care enough to try and move just yet. China pulls away from the leant over position against England side to pick up a small bowl of steaming soup, handing it carefully to a slightly baffled Iceland he nods at the questioning glance.

“I figured that you would be feeling hungry from your trip here so I decided to whip something up quickly in the kitchen just in case, aru.”

Iceland smiles brightly at the Asian nation before eagerly digging into the soup humming as multiple flavours explode against his tongue. He hadn’t had authentic Chinese food in years. Sitting up further in the Englishman’s embrace, Iceland eats his food with a new-found vigour, making small noises of appreciation every now and again.

“Whipped something up…”

England snorts good-naturedly, resulting in China giving him a soft cuff round the back of his head, though he goes back to leaning against England’s side, smiling fondly up at his partner.

“No matter what he decides to cook or how long he spends on a meal it is always perfect, ignore his modesty. It comes with the Asianness… All Eastern nations possess it.”

Iceland laughs softly at the identical looks on Hong Kong and China’s faces, both acting slightly offended by England’s comment. Though England just smirks at China, bending his head down to kiss the pout from China’s lips as he ruffles his son’s affectionately making them all chuckle.

“This is already much better than my house…”

Iceland comments offhandedly, blushing when the small family turn their gazes onto him inquisitively, he takes a couple more spoonsful of the soup, stalling for time before he elaborates.

“I mean, it’s just, whenever we are all in the same room; Danmörk and Noregur are fighting or arguing about something; Finland will be talking excessively about everything and anything trying to be heard over the arguments and even though he will be fighting, Danmörk will always manage to throw some insult or another at me. It is never this calm or fun.”

He blushes once more when he spies the understanding expression dawning in England and China’s eyes along with the sympathetic look directed towards him from Hong Kong.

“Well at least you are staying with us for the foreseeable future. You will not have to deal with any of them if you do not want to for the next few weeks.”

Iceland places his now finished bowl on the coffee table in front of the sofa before turning slightly allowing himself to throw his arms around England’s neck happily feeling content when familiar strong arms are wrapped around his waist in a warm embrace making him feel safe.

“Pakka Pér Fyrir, Englandi.”

“No worries, Iceland. Now, how about we get you settled into bed? I am sure that you would like to sleep some more and then we can talk in the morning if you feel up to it. I think Yao also has some medicine to treat your bruises which he could find for you tomorrow if you would like?”

England and Iceland look towards China who furrows his eyebrows together in thought, his hand absently running through Hong Kong’s hair, not that the younger minded. China was wracking his brain trying to remember whether he did indeed have some herbal medicines available to aid the young European nation. He nods his head slowly after a few moments as he looks back at the pale teen.

“Yes, I do believe that I have some of my herbal remedies somewhere, I will apply it for you tomorrow, Iceland.”

This time, Iceland leans forward and gives China a shy hug smiling happily when it was once again returned instantly, he could never get hugs as comforting as this at the Nordic household.

“Now, off to bed with you. I know you are probably too old but would you like for me to come tuck you in?”

Much to England’s surprise, Iceland turns towards him with an excited, wide-eyed expression. Nodding his head vigorously, Iceland felt ecstatic, he had never had someone willing to tuck him into bed before! Slowly pushing himself from the sofa, Iceland waits patiently for England to stand as well before shyly slipping his hand into the older nations. His smile widens when he feels a reassuring squeeze on his much smaller hand before he is gently led out of the room.

“Góða nótt.”

He calls over his shoulder and sighs happily when he hears a returned.

“Wǎn'ān.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations for this chapter;  
> Chinese  
> Bīngdăo - Iceland  
> Nuówēi - Norway  
> Ruìdiǎn - Sweden  
> Érzi - Son/Child  
> Yingguo - England  
> Wǎn'ān - Goodnight  
> Cantonese  
> Maami - Mother  
> Dedi - Father  
> Seoi Din - Sweden  
> No Wai - Norway  
> Bing Dou - Iceland  
> Icelandic  
> Noregi/Noregur - Norway  
> Danmörk - Denmark  
> Pakka Pér Fyrir - Thank you  
> Englandi - England  
> Góða nótt - Goodnight


	3. Missing!

_Chapter 3: Missing_

It had been three days since Iceland had escaped the house through his window with Hong Kong and so approximately five days since the argument with his brother. Norway, having finally had enough with his younger brother’s anti-social behaviour, found himself standing outside Iceland’s bedroom door. After much debating and deliberation, the Norwegian nation had decided to simply pick the lock on the Icelandic’s door and force the younger to come out and socialise.

It’s not like he could be that upset over Sweden breaking off their relationship anyway.

Hearing the quiet click of the latch sliding open, Norway wasted no time pushing the door open slowly as he cautiously walks into the room calling out to Iceland as he does.

“Island? It is time to come out your room. You cannot spen…”

Norway abruptly stops talking midsentence, freezing in the now fully open doorway, his heart starts to pick up its pace within his chest as his eyes scan the seemingly empty room. Ice shoots through his veins at the bed covers lying in disarray and the window standing open, curtains dancing in the breeze. Not wanting to believe that his little brother had really run away from home, Norway pushes himself into the room frantically searching for any sign of the younger nation.

He pulls the covers from the bed throwing them unceremoniously to the floor; he searches under the bed and even inside the wardrobe, just in case Iceland had decided to hide from him when he had heard the door to his room unlock.

Nothing. There was no sign of Iceland anywhere in his room, meaning he was not in the house!

About to turn around to run out of the room in order to go continue his search for the youngest Nordic nation, Norway spots a small folded piece of notebook paper lying innocently on the bedside table, his name scrawled across the front in Iceland’s familiar handwriting. Shakily, he picks up the note and begins to read slowly.

**_Dear Noregi,_ **

**_I probably should apologise for making you worry but I am too tired of you trying to control my every move, I am tired with you always making decisions for me and taking them all out of my hands. I cannot deal with this anymore and so I am leaving for a while. I recall you saying that ‘as long as I am under your roof’ and so I am no longer going to be under your roof and so no you will have no say in my life._ **

**_I will not tell you when I am coming back but I feel that I should warn you that I may never return._ **

**_I just wanted to let you know that I loved Svíþjóð with all my heart and because of you, because of whatever it was you said to him we are no longer together. I know you are probably happy with this fact, if you are then you are selfish, Noregur. It is all your fault that I cannot eat, I haven’t slept and I feel as if my entire world has come crashing down. I hope you are happy about destroying a chance at happiness for me Noregur._ **

**_Another reason why I left was because I no longer felt as if I were safe in our house either, did you realise that both my knees, head and arm were all severely bruised from when you threw me around the hall like a rag doll? Did you know that it took me twice as long to make it too my room because I was dizzy, in pain and had to use the wall to keep myself upright?_ **

**_Your worry is unnecessary as well as unneeded as I am safe, I have found people who will keep me safe and help me when I ask for it. These people have accepted me unconditionally and I would appreciate it if you would not try to contact me until I am ready to talk to you._ **

**_Your fellow Nordic,_ **

**_Iceland._ **

Norway felt his knees give way as he read through the words Iceland had written a few days ago by the looks of things, he re-read it to make sure he had not skipped over anything and had taken in all the relevant information. He could feel his eyes begin to sting with the beginnings of tears as his hands shook, the last words taunting his mind viciously. **_Your fellow Nordic_ , **his stomach churned violently at the mere thought of Iceland tossing him away, of him disowning him as his brother just because he was trying to protect the younger nation from inevitably being hurt by the standoffish Nordic.

Shaking his head in both disbelief and denial, Norway pushes himself to his feet, forcing himself to leave his younger brother’s room the Norwegian making his way on shaky legs, mechanically to the front room where Denmark was lounging for once silent. Ignoring the questioning glance sent his way by the Dane, Norway makes his way straight to the phone dialling a number he knew by heart. Focusing all his attention on the white device in his hand, Norway vaguely registers the sofa dipping next to him as Denmark takes a seat beside him.

Norway waits impatiently, the phone being held in white knuckles, his mind willing the other to answer the phone quickly. Releasing a breath with a sigh of relief when the line clicked along the connection, a soft confused voice coming through the cord.

“Norja? What’s up?”

“Hey Fin, have either you or Sverige seen Island at all? Have you been in contact with him?”

“Is? No, sorry. Not since we were around yours the other day. Su-san hasn’t left his room since that night except when the kids knock. Do you know what is wrong with him?”

“Sorry Fin, I don’t. If you happen to see Island at all can you contact me? He ran away and hasn’t told anyone where he was going. He left me a quick note telling me that he was safe with some people who said will take care of him but he refused to tell me where he was going!”

Norway feels a comforting arm being wrapped around his shoulders and feels himself calming at the familiar gesture, absently leaning against the warm body seated behind himself. Norway sighs contently as the muscular arms move to wrap themselves around his waist in a loving embrace. He could feel one of the hands gently taking the crumpled out of his slacked hand and knew that Denmark was reading it through; he just couldn’t mind his own business.

“If I hear anything from Islanti or see him around you will be the first one to know. Well I really should go, I think Sweden has allowed the children into his room again, I might be able to get him to eat. I am going to inform him that Islanti has gone missing as well, he would want to know. Have you tried calling around? At least one nation should know something about where he has gone, right?”

Norway nods thoughtfully, taking as much comfort from the figure behind him as a large hand begins to stroke through his hair.

“I will try asking around, thank you Fin. I hope Sverige feels better soon.”

He hangs up the phone with a loud sigh, placing the device back onto its holder on the side table before turning his gaze towards Denmark who pulls the Norwegian nation to rest against his side, placing a soft kiss to the others temple as he holds the note loosely in his hand.

“Are you alright Norge? What did Fin say?”

Shaking his head sorrowfully, Norway leans his head comfortably against Denmark’s shoulder feeling his worries build as he tries to think through the nations he knows in order to pin point one who could help Iceland; one Iceland trusted more than his own brother.

“I don’t know Den, I mean I have no idea where Ice is or could have gone. I don’t know whether he is in trouble or if he is safe like his note says. Finland says that neither he nor Sverige has seen or heard from Island since they were round here the other night. Though he also mentioned how Sverige has refused to leave his room at all since, apparently he is refusing any food Fin has been leaving outside his door.”

Denmark nods his head absently, looking back at the letter in his hand before focusing back on his partner who was looking at the crackling fireplace, his eyebrows furrowed deep in thought.

“Hey Norge, did we do the right thing?”

Norway looks up at the man questioningly.

“I mean, it’s just that, both Island and Sverige have locked themselves in their rooms refusing to eat anything and now Island has run away. He even wrote in his letter that he was in love with Sve and Sverige told us the same thing during our discussion… It is possible that we made a mistake and it really is our fault Island ran away from home?”

Norway tilts his head back towards the fire eyes glassy with the start of tears before facing Denmark once more his face back to its expressionless mask. He clasps his hands in his lap tightly, hiding the fact that they were shaking while resting his head back against the Dane’s shoulder. His thoughts following the same line as his partner’s though he says.

“No, I am sure we did the right thing, I mean it would have ended sooner or later. We just decreased the amount of pain Is would have felt if we had allowed it to continue.”

“Alright.”

Denmark conceded easily with a quick nod of his head, tightening his arm around Norway’s shoulders, silence descended as the couple fell into their own thoughts basking in the others company for once.

“Hey Norge?”

The younger merely hummed in response.

“Isn’t Island friends with that Pyro Asian kid?”

Norway furrows his eyebrows once more wracking his brain for the weird Asian kid Denmark was thinking of, his mind going through all Asian nations he had seen and associated with before coming up with the face of the one Ice hung out with a lot.

“Yes, what was his name again? He is Kina and England’s son, right?”

Denmark once more slowly nods his head, the room lapsing into silence once more for a few short moments as both Nordics try to recall the name of Yao’s youngest relative.

“Hong Kong! That was it!”

Nodding silent in agreement, Norway fishes around in his pocket for his phone, scrolling quickly through his contacts list he comes across the other nations mobile number and pressed the call button. The phone rang for a few seconds before it connected and someone answered, a strong accent hinting the words.

“Nǐ hǎo. Wang Jia Long speaking.”

“Ummm Hello, it this Hong Kong?”

There the sound of shuffling before a quiet, muffled conversation drifted through the speaker, as if the person on the other end was covering the device with their hand, making Norway glance over at Denmark with a raised eyebrow having put his own phone on speaker for the other nation to hear as well.

“Yes, this is Hong Kong speaking, may I ask who is calling?”

The heavily accented voice, which Norway now placed as Cantonese returned, the noises in the background silencing as he focused back on the conversation, Denmark tried to smoother his snort of disbelief at, what he dubbed, stuck-up English the other was using.

“Norway.”

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr Nuówēi?”

This time Denmark fails to cover the loud snort of derision, earning him a dark glare from the Norwegian, lest the only person they knew close enough to Iceland to know where he was get offended and refuse. The Dane pales slightly stuffing his fist in his mouth to muffle anymore sounds before he receives on of Norway’s infamous tie strangles.

“I was wondering if you had heard anything from Island recently, it seems that he has gone missing and me, along with the rest of the Nordic’s, are concerned for his safety.”

Once more the quiet sounds of a conversation drifted through the speaker, this time allowing the two Nordic nations to identify the language as Chinese. Though with how little they knew of the eastern language and how fast the two were speaking, they assumed it was China, they had no hope of trying to translate the speech.

“I am sorry to inform you, Mr Nuówēi but the last time I heard from Bīngdăo was a few days ago, he informed me that he was going to be visiting a few friends and that I would see him at the next world meeting.”

Norway releases a heavy sigh, his face forming a frown at the information. His little brother had gone to visit some unknown friends without informing anyone of his location or giving anyone a way of contacting him while he was gone. Shaking his head in exasperation he turns his attention back to the phone call.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen him at all? We are not too sure when he left you see, it could have been as long as five days ago. We would just like to know that he is safe. Did he tell you the names of his friends, where they were or leave a contact number with you?”

“I can assure you, Mr Nuówēi. That I have not seen Bīngdăo since the last meeting. I am sorry to say that he gave me no contact information for his friends nor their identities, I assumed that he wanted to spend some time away before the next meeting to relax and recuperate.”

Norway sighs, this time at the lack of information received, he nods his head anyway, even if Hong couldn’t see.

“Thank you for your help, Hong Kong. If you see him or hear from him would you contact me immediately?”

“Of course, Mr Nuówēi. I am sorry that I couldn’t be of more help.”

“Don’t worry about it, I will see you at the next meeting.”

“Bye Mr Nuówēi, I hope you find Ice soon.”

Norway hangs up his phone with a put-out sigh, resting fully into the comforting embrace of Denmark who was running his fingers lazily through the white-blond tuffs. Both nations were deep within their own thoughts as they run the gathered information, facts they had received from the smaller Asian nation along with the letter which Iceland himself left behind.

“Do you have any idea who else Island could possibly friends with? Any other nation he would trust more than that Hong Kong kid it seems?”

Denmark shakes his head in a negative, his eyes gazing towards the flames which had been dancing in the fireplace since the early morning as he racks his brain one final time for anyone else who could potentially have some information about their youngest brother and Nordic.

Iceland was sitting on the floor of China’s living room as Hong Kong answers the phone call from Norway and Denmark. He tries to stifle his giggles at the conversation he could hear, finding the conduction of the conversation amusing. He always found it funny when Hong Kong deliberately spoke in what England calls the ‘Queen’s English’ while emphasising his Cantonese accent and by the look of exasperated fondness, England didn’t mind that much either.

He bites down on his knuckles gently stifling another giggle as China continues to spread the last of the cold herbal remedy upon the faded bruises on his knees. An ancient Chinese recipe which both took away the pain from a scrape or bruise while simultaneously aiding in the healing of said injury.

China looks over at the giggling European nation affectionately as he wipes the remnants of ointment off his hands onto a clean cloth, closing the jar which contained the herbal mix. Both England and China were very pleased to see the small nation looking so much better after a couple full night’s sleep. They had decided that until the smaller nation was gaining enough weight, England would prepare a full English breakfast every morning.

England was proud to point out that he had, of course, cooked it himself. Who could cook an English breakfast better than England himself?

“Right, all finished, Bīngdăo. That should be the last application, your bruises are almost healed and are hardly visible anymore. How are you feeling, aru?”

Iceland gets his giggling under control and turns his gaze towards the Asian nation, smiling brightly at the man who couldn’t help but return the gesture with a warm smile of his own.

“I am feeling much better, thank you.”

China was about to brush off the thanks with a casual reply but was interrupted by Iceland’s ringtone sounding through the room, signifying that a text was received. Frowning down at the device confused, Iceland knew that it couldn’t have been Denmark or Norway contacting him as he had made sure to block both their numbers the day he left. Not wanting to chance them tracking his phone through text message or phone calls.

Sending a questioning gland towards China, the younger nations grabs his phone from its place, by his side, on the floor at the older nations reassuring smile. Looking at the home screen, Iceland can feel his face heating up in a flush as a wide smile stretches across his lips when he reads the name shining up at him from the illuminous square.

“Who is it from, Ice?”

Iceland startles from his thoughts at the soft voice behind himself, looking up, his grin still in place his violet eyes meet the worried emerald of England who had moved to stand behind him. His huge eyebrows were furrowed as he crouches down to sit on the floor next to the white-haired teen.

Now Iceland knew that he left Norway and Denmark’s house because they always demanded who he was texting, where he was going and such but he knew that when England or China asked him those sorts of question, he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to. They would happily leave him with that privacy which made him open up to them more and want to share these sorts of things with the pair.

“Svíþjóð!”

England returns his smile before gesturing to the device still held tightly in the teenager’s grasp, ruffling his short hair affectionately.

“Well, are you going to read it?”

Iceland nods his head excitedly, unlocking his screen, the younger nation quickly finds his messages and reads through the written words, a warmth spreading through his veins, his heart beginning to thump faster in his chest as the words process in his mind. He can feel the flush on his cheeks deepen as his smile stretches further across his face, feeling extremely happy that the older man had finally messaged him.

“What did he say, Iceland?”

Blinking slowly up at the Island nation, Iceland sighs contently at the message once more before he leans against England’s side comfortably. Handing the phone absently to the older blond, his thoughts still on the words written for him by his Svi, his love. Sighing, this time in contentment, when the Englishman wraps an arm around his shoulders before taking the offered mobile gently from the pale outstretched hand.

His green eyes flicker from side to side as he quickly reads through the message squeezing the other European nation’s shoulders when he gets to the end, handing the phone back to its owner.

**_Dear Island,_ **

**_I just wanted to message you to see how you were holding up? Finland told me that he had just gotten off the phone with Norge and said that you were missing. Are you alright? You are safe, right? I am not going to ask you where you are nor am I going to ask who you are with because if you didn’t give that information out then I am guessing that you want to be left alone and I understand that._ **

**_Once more, I wanted you to know that I am so sorry for breaking up with you like that, Is, I never wanted to. I still love you and I always will. If you are agreeable would you be willing to meet me the day before the next meeting in a weeks’ time in England? I want to explain everything to you because there were some things said which you need to hear._ **

**_I hope you are doing alright, Ice. Stay safe._ **


	4. Explanations

_Chapter 4: Explanations_

After much deliberation and discussions with China and England, along with many reassurances that they were not going to let anything happen to the young nation, Iceland had messaged Sweden back agreeing to meet him.

England had suggested that they meet somewhere in Hyde Park as it was a popular tourist attraction which meant they wouldn’t be alone and wouldn’t draw too much attention. It would also mean that England could go with the young teen just in case it was a trick from the Norwegian or Dane to try and get to the Icelandic.

Once that had been dealt with England had had to tell Iceland that instead of staying in the hotel assigned to the nations for the duration of the meeting, Iceland was more than welcome to stay at the Englishman’s manor home in London with himself, China and Hong Kong. The white-haired teen readily agreed as it meant that he would be able to spend less time in the company of the Nordics and more time with the people he was beginning to see as his family in all but blood. The parents he never had.

Hong Kong was ecstatic to have his best friend staying with him while they were in England, it gave them more time to annoy… hang out with his parents, who both seem to have taken to his friend instantly. It was perfect seen as Iceland was open to all forms of parental affection and love England and China were there to give.

As England was the host he would have to make his way to England a few days before the meeting was scheduled to begin preparation and in order to make some last-minute adjustments as well as to set up the meeting hall and hotel rooms. Iceland had almost begged the Englishman to take him with him, it wasn’t that he didn’t like China because the man’s country was beautiful, but simply due to the fact that he felt slightly more attached to his fellow European nation which China found adorable.

Laughing at the pout on Iceland’s face England agreed and even offered for Hong Kong and China to come back with him, it would give them time to settle back into the bustle of London life before the meeting.

China, though wasn’t that keen on the London weather, agreed without much fuss. He did state that now he had less time to pack his belongings and make sure he would have everything that he would need. Which besides making England laugh, caused the Englishman to point out that China had a replica of almost everything in his home in England’s manor as well which caused China to blush embarrassed at his memory flop.

So, after another week in China’s home, the small family had packed up a few belongings before heading to England. Iceland felt slightly apprehensive as it meant that his meeting with Sweden was creeping closer. He was excited to see the other Nordic, but the break up still hurt a lot.

Feeling his mood begin to sour, Iceland shook himself of the depressing thoughts and decided to focus his attention on the beautiful scenery which was passing them by as they drove to the closest airport. He focused on the upcoming trip to England, he hadn’t visited the island nation in years, probably not since the last world meeting was held there and he missed the country.

 -

As Iceland is making his way through the busy streets of London, watching the water sparkle in the sun and ripple as fish jump above the surface as if saying hello. Iceland looks towards England who was looking happily down at the long lake known as The Serpentine, which the younger nation thought an apt name. He was nervous, hoping against hope that this was an actual meeting with Sweden and not a trick of his brother or Denmark as he really wanted to talk with the Swede.

It takes them approximately 15 minutes to weave their way through the throngs of people to the entrance way of Hyde Park, walking around the directed paths Iceland can feel his nerves increase as his palms turn sweaty and his breathing picks up minutely.

England noticing this takes hold of the younger nations shoulder, gently pulling him to a stop.

“I know you are nervous, Iceland but I promise you that everything is going to be alright. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Okay?”

Iceland nods his head, thankful that the Englishman is there with him, feeling slightly better the Nordic country takes a deep breath before he slips his hand into England’s, resuming their walk towards the meet up area.

The white-haired nation isn’t sure what to think when he spots Sweden sitting on a bench out of the way of the other visistors, he was relieved to note that this was a genuine meeting with the Swede and that he wasn’t about to get kidnapped by Norway or Denmark.

He can see that Sweden has his faced bowed, his hair covering his eyes as they appear to be gazing at the floor in front of his feet. The other was clasping his hands between his knees as his elbows rested on said knees as his right leg was being bounced up and down in a show of anxiety. Sweden quickly pulls his phone out of his pocket in a move Iceland presumes as checking the time before his blue eyes scan the crowd surrounding himself.

Iceland feels his heart clench painfully in his chest at the way Sweden’s eyes light up upon seeing him (and England) approach, he watches as the older and usually calm nation jumps to his feet, almost stumbling over the metal leg before rushing over to the pair.

His eyes scan Iceland’s face, taking in the slight black bags under violet eyes and the paler that normal skin tone, there is a sad undertone echoed within his own eyes which causes his heart to stutter in his chest knowing that he was the one responsible for putting such an emotion there.

As he stares at the younger nation and almost without realising what he was doing, as if it had become a subconscious motion, Sweden’s right hand comes up slowly, his large appendix cupping Iceland’s cheek affectionately, his thumb brushing along sharp cheek bones gently.

“Eríkur…”

His voice was barely above a whisper, weighed down with a mix of emotions as his blue eyes glaze with a sheen of tears.

Iceland, knowing that it was a good idea to listen to Sweden’s explanations before allowing himself to get carried away with his emotions couldn’t help but lean into the touch, longing for those strong arms to wrap around himself in a warm, comforting embrace.

England smiles subtly at the interaction between the pair, reminding him of his own relationship with China just after he had apologised for the divorce, feeling himself being moved by the strong waves of emotions surrounding the two. He gives them a few moments before placing his hand upon Iceland’s shoulder affectively startling the younger out of his daydreams.

“Maybe we should get started? I am sure you both would like to get this over with.”

Gesturing to the empty picnic table Sweden had vacated, England ushers the other nations to take a seat on the benches, Iceland smiles hesitantly before taking the seat next to England’s left while Sweden sits himself down on the opposite side of the table directly in front of Iceland.

“I know I have said this before but I wanted… no I needed to tell you in person, Island. No matter what happens today you need to know that I am so sorry. I never wanted to break up with you, Is, but they gave me no choice in the matter. I still love you with everything I have. These past few days have been horrible without you Erikur and I miss you.”

Iceland looks at Sweden with confusion in his eyes, he shares a glance with England who simply squeezes the younger one’s shoulder in reassurance giving him a small nod.

“Then why did you? You broke my heart Svi, it was the worst pain I had ever had to deal with and I can’t go through that again. What could they have possibly said that would force you to end our relationship, I thought you were happy with me..?”

Sweden curses himself mentally at the doubt Iceland was casting upon their relationship and therefore his feelings. He hated himself for making his Iceland feel like this but he needed to get through his reasoning before he could try soothing the scars he left behind.

“I know, Is. Trust me, I have never been happier than when I was with you, you were my entire world and I loved every second we were together, never doubt that, never ever doubt that, Is. I am going to explain everything that happened that night and if you don’t want to take me back afterwards, I’ll understand.”

Iceland simply nods his head in understanding, scepticism still evident in his eyes as he watches Sweden shifts in his seat nervously.

“You remember that argument was pretty bad when Norge and Danmork found out?”

Once more Iceland nods his head hesitantly, not wanting to remember the look of fury in Norway’s eyes.

“After he returned to the front room from the hallway, he and Danmork turned their full anger to me. They resumed their shouting but instead of holding back they start shouting all sorts of things and I am glad you weren’t in the room to hear any of it. It hurt to hear people I counted as friends say some of the things coming from their mouths. It caused me to doubt myself, our relationship and worse of all, your feelings for me.”

Sweden stops talking as he chokes up, his voice breaking with the force of trying to prevent himself from crying before he had even explained the events.

“What did they say to you Sweden?”

Sweden wipes his eyes on a tissue England was holding out, his voice was soft, calming almost, something the oldest Nordic wasn’t even sure if he had heard it before, especially not during a meeting. Accepting the small item Sweden forces himself to take a deep breath, turning his eyes down to study the cracks in the wooden table top.

“They kept telling me that I was obviously holding Iceland in our relationship, that there wasn’t a chance that he was willingly dating me without me holding something over his head. That he could never love someone like me. Danmork said that I was unlovable, unappealing and with how little I talk and how little I express outwardly, Iceland would get bored of me soon enough. I tried telling them that I loved him wholeheartedly that our relationship was completely serious; I told them how I loved his awkwardness in most social settings and how adorable I found it. How he secretly adores and dotes on his pet puffin despite the fact he keeps trying to tell us all and how often he complains. I love his strange obsession with liquorice, he has multiple ‘secret’ stashes all over the house which he thinks no one knows about.”

England tries to smother a short laugh with a quiet cough at the purely lovestruck expression on the Swede’s face as if he had forgotten about the nation’s seated in front of him. Turning to face Iceland, England smirks and winks at the younger nation’s bright red face, who despite his severe embarrassment was glowing with happiness as evident by the shy smile dancing on his lips and the sparkle in his eyes, a shine England hadn’t witnessed yet.

The small noise broke Sweden out of his daze who clears his throat embarrassed as a blush explodes across his pale checks. He gazes at Iceland and smiles hesitantly.

“No matter what I tried to tell them; what I tried to say to them they just continued to shout at me not hearing a word. Until…”

He broke off again, his expression turning solemn as his gaze fixes on Iceland’s violet eyes making him smile sadly.

“Until?”

England prompts gently.

“Until they told me to break up with Iceland. They got even angrier when I refused and Danmork said to me that if I didn’t do what they wanted than the alliances and agreements I held with both their countries would be made null and void but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to agree; Iceland was the best thing to happen in my life besides Ladonia and Sealand, I couldn’t leave him even if it meant destroying my closest alliances. I couldn’t.”

Iceland watches the emotions play out across Sweden’s face, confusion, defiance, anger, sadness, and frustration. He watches feeling helpless as the man he loves tries to deal with these emotions as he tells his story. He watches a tears stream down Sweden’s cheeks until slowly, he reaches a hand across the splinted table top placing his hand softly on top Sweden’s clenched fist.

The older nation startles, looking over the table with wide, confused eyes which Iceland answers with a small encouraging smile.

“What did they say when you still refused?”

England questions, ruffling Iceland’s hair in a calming gesture. Iceland smiles at the Brit and leans his head against the other thin shoulder wrapping his hand tighter around Sweden’s which he relaxes from its clenched position. The Englishman places a soft kiss to the white tuff of hair, wrapping a supportive arm around the younger nation’s shoulder.

Sweden could feel a weight being lifted from his shoulders at the fact that, by the interaction before him meant that Iceland had finally found that parental figure he had always been hoping for.

“As you can imagine, they were not amused. They became both annoyed and furious when I still refused but the words that came out of their mouths next made my blood run cold. I would have never imagined either of them saying something even remotely close to this but…”

Sweden stops talking, his tears begin to flow more freely, flowing down his cheeks, dripping from his chin to shatter against the table top. He tightens his grip on Iceland’s fingers and takes a deep breath, his watery blue eyes meeting England’s concerned green, knowing the Brit would probably explode at his next words.

“They told me that if I didn’t end my relationship with Iceland then they would invade and concur Sealand and Ladonia…”

“What?!”

England shouts enraged, dislodging Iceland from his shoulder before stroking a soothing hand through the white-blond hair apologetically, though his eyes were flashing with heated rage.

“They wanted to take my children away from me, they said that they would attack my sons, possibly kill them even and I couldn’t… didn’t want to… but…but…”

It was at this point that Sweden finally lost control of his emotions, he breaks down into loud heart-wrenching sobs at the threat, his worry and panic for the safety of his sons was over powering and Iceland felt horrible for what his brother had said to the older nation. It made him hate Norway that much more now.

“It’s alright, Svi. I am glad you told me. We will get through this, I promise.”

England watches the older nation cry and makes a quick decision in his head before focusing on the sobbing nation.

“He’s right, Sweden. China and I will be more than happy to assist you, we will keep your children safe. I just can’t believe those two would sink so low as to threaten and almost declare war on defenceless children.”

Sweden nods his head, taking a few moments to calm himself down before smiling slightly at the more southern European nation drying his eyes.

“Thank you, England.”

He turns his attention to Iceland and startles at the soft expression on the youngers face, he looks down to their still intertwined hands and threads his fingers through Iceland’s thinner ones. Smiling a bit wider when he feels the grip on his hand tightening.

“I know the words I said to you hurt and I cannot take them back but if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Iceland chuckles at the older man, feeling the weight suppressing his heart relax at the Swedes words, thankful that Sweden was willing to get back together after everything they had been through and had to deal with the past couple of weeks.

“There is nothing really for me to forgive you for, Svi. If I had been in your position I wouldn’t have been able to choose any differently. You needed to protect your family I understand that and I think it is sweet how much you love and care for them; they are lucky to have a father like you.”

Sweden flushes, feeling his cheeks heating up at Iceland words as he watches the sincerity shine in familiar violet eyes.

“So, will you, possibly, consider, maybe…”

Iceland blushes deeply, turning his gaze towards England who simply kisses the other on the forehead, brushing his hair away from his face before nodding his head encouragingly towards the Swede.

“I would love to be your boyfriend again, Svi.”

Sweden grins widely, a rare expression for the nation to show to anyone besides the younger teen opposite himself.

“Thank you, Is. I really do love you.”

“And I love you, Svi.”

“Right, I apologise for breaking this up rather abruptly and I am glad that we could clear everything up but I have a few more things to arrange for tomorrow’s meeting. However, if you are free Sweden; China, Hong Kong, Iceland and myself were planning to go out for a family dinner tonight if you would like to join us?”

“Berwald and I would like that, Thank you.”

England shook his head at the thanks, reaching a hand across the table as he stood up from his seat. Shaking the outstretched hand, Sweden watches happily as England gently assists Iceland out of his seat as well before they both turn their attention to the taller man.

“Arthur, please. I will get Iceland to message you the details closer to the time. Once again, I apologise for running off like this, otherwise I would have happily given you and Ice longer to discuss things and catch up.”

“Do not worry about it, Arthur. Hosting a meeting can be a busy time for any nation. Thank you for accompanying Is.”

“You do not have to thank me for that, It is always a pleasure spending time with, Ice.”

Iceland blushes up at England, beaming brightly at the older man who simply ruffles his hair once again as the white-haired teen slips his hand into England’s like he had done on the walk here.

“I will speak to you later, Svi.”

Sweden places a quick kiss to Iceland’s flushed cheek, smiling down at the smaller teen happily.

“Speak to you soon, Hjärtat.”

“ég elska þig, elskan.”

“Jag älskar dig.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Swedish  
> Norge - Norway  
> Danmork - Denmark  
> Island - Iceland  
> Tack - Thank you/Thanks  
> Hjärtat - My Heart/Heart  
> Jag älskar dig - I love you  
> Icelandic  
> ég elska þig - I Love you  
> elskan - My Love/Dear


	5. Family

_Chapter Five: Family_

When England and Iceland return to the manor they are greeted with a sight which has them both startled and just slightly bewildered. Iceland pauses in the doorway to the living room as he watches China; a four thousand or so year-old nation, rolling around the floor mock wrestling with an equally enthusiastic Hong Kong.

England, once he had shaken himself out of the shock which had gripped him, shakes his head in amused exasperation walking over to the fighting pair. Standing above his partner and son, the island nation chuckles as he looks down at them, arms crossed over his chest as Hong Kong manages to pin his mother to the floor as China is struggling to free himself. Raising a thick eyebrow, clearing his throat.

“Need I ask what the two of you are doing?”

Hong Kong startles, not having seen his father walk through the doorway, his grip loosening on China’s shoulders as he looks up at his father smiling sheepishly while bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Hello Fuqin, how did th…”

It turns out to be a mistake.

As Hong Kong was distracted by England, China quickly takes the opportunity to flip his son over onto the floor, reversing their positions as he straddles the young nations hips, grinning triumphantly down at the displeased teen.

Iceland, who has been watching the scene in bemusement from the doorway, slowly makes his way into the room to stand next to England unsure of what he was supposed to do in such a situation.

Normally, the fights in his house with the Nordics were never playful and someone always got hurt, so seeing this play out made him feel like an outcast.

“Seriously, we leave the two of you alone for not even two hours, only to return and find you rolling around the floor like children.”

England shakes his head at the sudden pout forming on China’s lips as the smaller nation finally turns his attention towards his husband, though he does still find time to cuff Hong Kong around the back of the head when he begins to snicker softly.

“But Iggy…”

China whines, subconsciously proving England’s point once more.

Iceland, eyeing the playout in interest chuckles softly, drawing the blond-haired nations attention who simply winks at him before morphing his expression into that of stern disappointment.

“Please, don’t you start with that absurd nickname, I am going to have to beat Japan for coming up with it. You know I dislike it, China.!

China merely sticks his tongue out at the man still standing above him, his mouth opening as if to give a retort but Hong Kong chooses that moment to flip the older nation over leaving them both laying on the wooden floor smiling up at England.

“What led to this anyway?”

England enquires as he moves to settle himself down on the sofa still watching his son and husband in case they decided to continue their fight before giving him an answer. He eyes them as they both slowly pull themselves from the floor, pushing and shoving each other as they trip over making their way towards the adjacent sofa.

Noticing Iceland’s still slightly perplexed expression, the island nation motions for the younger to join him, patting the sofa cushion at his side.

“Well, Mǔqīn forgot where he placed his phone this morning and had apparently forgotten to reply to a text message he received from Éguó.”

Hong Kong pauses in order to pull his phone out of his trouser pocket, which China instantly zeros in on and reaches for, making the younger hold the device out of his mother’s reach.

“Right, well what does that have to do with Iceland and I finding the two of you play wrestling on the floor?”

“I am getting there, Fuqin.”

Hong Kong now lay casually on his back on top of the sofa, trying to fend China away from his phone as England simply sighs.

“As I was saying, Mǔqīn asked if I would phone his mobile so he could find it quickly without having to instead spend hours searching for it. I told him to wait a minute, as I was on the phone to Japan and it would have been terribly rude of me to just hang up…”

England nods his head, knowing that by the tone of his son’s voice that Hong Kong also did it just to annoy his mother and get a reaction from the man. He was also still trying to suppress the snickers that wanted to escape as China now attempted to push his son off the sofa in order to reach the devices.

Hong Kong, however was having too much fun messing with China and after a quick shout towards Iceland, threw the phone over. Iceland, having caught the mobile quickly looks towards China with no small amount of fear in his eyes before turning a betrayed expression to Hong Kong who was too busy laughing to help.

China smirks towards Iceland, scrambling up from his crouched position on the settee, the older nation runs at the northern nation who in return laughs loudly and flips over the back of the sofa.

As China now chases a giggling Iceland around the front room, England turns his attention back towards his son who was smiling at the pair happily.

“Anyway, I was almost finished using my phone but apparently Mǔqīn was terrified that Éguó would somehow manage to track his phone and find out where he was staying for the meeting, if he didn’t answer soon. He freaked out a bit and tried to steal my phone… I told him to wait a few seconds but as you saw it got a little out of hand.”

Hong Kong shrugs his shoulders in a nonchalant gesture while England snorts in disbelief at the slight understatement. He was just about to respond when they hear a shriek from the direction of the entrance hall. Sharing a look of alarm England and Hong Kong jump up from their seats and rush out of the room. Afraid that Russia had indeed found China.

Upon arriving at the entrance hall however, both England and Hong Kong stare incredulously at the scene before them.

China was straddling Iceland’s hips, his expression one of sadistic glee as his fingers skim the newly exposed, pale skin of Iceland’s stomach and sides. His shirt having been pushed up to his ribs, either intentionally by the Asian nation or accidentally by their rolling around.

Iceland, on the other hand, was red-faced, gasping for breath as his sides were mercilessly tickled by the older nation, both were laughing uncontrollably.

“Stop… Please…”

China chuckles, almost evilly, before upping his attack, delighting in the way the younger nation was twisting in an attempt to escape or throw the other nation off him.

“Not until you surrender the phone, Bíng,”

“Never!”

Iceland just about manages to choke out. He twists and wiggles, almost violently in China’s hands before as his head turns to the side, he spots England and Hong Kong laughing at his predicament off to the side. Trying to regulate his breathing despite the tickling, Iceland manages to force out a few words directed towards the Englishman before being overrun by giggles once more.  

“England… Faðir… Help me… Please!”

Iceland, being too overcome with laughter doesn’t notice the stunned silence which descends around him as China stops his tickling and England stares down at the younger European nation, tears coming to his eyes. Quickly pulling himself together, England smirks towards China who starts tickling Iceland once more and with a cry charges at China who topples off the teenager in shock.

Looking up, the Asian nation finds himself staring into bright green eyes sparkling with joy and exuberance, something the older nation hadn’t seen since they had agreed to remarry after their long divorce.

Iceland, however, was just starting to calm his breathing back down when the words he had called to England began to process through his mind. Pushing himself slowly into a sitting position, Iceland finds himself watching the interaction between England and China with a sense of longing in his chest. Knowing that he never did have parents and wanting them more than anything, especially after spending so long with the couple.

Hong Kong, noticing the growing longing and resignation on his friends face quickly rushes over to the younger nation, collapsing on his knees and tugs Iceland into a tight embrace.

“Hey Ice, it’s alright. Don’t worry so much. Fuqin doesn’t care, he would be happy for you to think of him as your Faðir. I am sure of it.”

Iceland pulls his gaze from England and China, just as the two glance over, he looks into the concerned eyes of his friend before reverting his eyes to his lap, his insecurities bleeding into his posture as he curls himself tighter into the other teens arms.

“Really?”

“Truly.”

Iceland jumps at the soft voice coming from in front of himself. Looking through his lashes he allows himself to smile shyly at the Englishman.

“Iceland…”

England clears his throat, looking at China who nods his head with a warm smile, slipping his thin hand into his husbands as they kneel on the floor before the two teenagers.

“Iceland, when you first turned up at our door with Hong Kong we were so worried about you, we had never seen a nation looking so worn. You were concussed, bruised, half-starved, exhausted, and frightened beyond belief. We knew at that second that we wanted nothing more than to make you feel safe. For you to know that there were people who would listen to you, protect you and love you unconditionally. We didn’t want you to feel alone anymore; like an outcast in a place you were supposed to see as a home. You may not be our biological son like Hong but you are still our son, our family.”

Iceland could feel his eyes tearing up as he sits listening to the older nation he had come to think of as a father. Finally, as England finishes, he allows his tears to fall and throws himself thankfully into the couple, wrapping an arm around each of them as he cries into their embrace. Feeling completely content when two sets of arms wrap around himself in return.

“Þakka þér fyrir, faðir, móðir.”

“You are welcome, son.”

“We love you, Érzi. Both of you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Chinese  
> Éguó - Russia  
> Bing - Shortened of Iceland so maybe read as Ice.  
> Érzi - Son  
> Cantonese  
> Maami - Mother  
> Dedi - Father  
> Ngo Lo Si - Russia  
> Icelandic  
> Þakka þér fyrir - Thank you  
> Faðir - Father  
> Móðir - Mother


	6. Dinner

_Chapter 6: The Dinner_

England leads his family through the streets of Notting Hill, London towards the place where he had booked the reservations for tonight’s family dinner. It was nearing 7 in the evening and unlike what the weather report had cautioned there was not a rain cloud in sight. He knew that many countries had complained about his nation’s weather in the past, and that they would continue to complain but he knew that despite what the world thought, it actually rained less than half of the days in an average year. His weather may not have been as sunny or bright as Spain’s or even Japan’s but considering that they were much closer to the equator and were not surrounded by either seas and mountains he did pretty well.

The island nation happily walks down the street leading to the restaurant holding China’s hand in his own, his thumb brushing soft knuckles absently. Looking over his shoulder he couldn’t help but smile warmly at the interactions between Hong Kong and Iceland; the boys were currently talking animatedly between themselves, Hong Kong having thrown his arm around the smaller teens shoulder somewhere along their walk.

“I never realised how alike those two were until Ice came to live with us, aru.”

England pulls his attention back to his husband who was looking back at him, amber eyes shining with a mix of love and pride. Releasing the others hand, the Englishman wraps his now free arm around China’s waist pulling the smaller male close to his side before pecking his lips softly.

“They did always go out together and I remember Hong Kong insisting that he be allowed to keep his phone to hand at all times just in case Ice contacted him.”

“Yes, I remember that. Do you think one of the reasons behind his insistence was because Hong knew that he was the only one Iceland had ever opened up to about the other Nordics?”

China asks, his voice wavering as it was laced with his worry for the younger teen, he steals a glance over his shoulder at his sons, his heart aching at the mere thought.

“It is a possibility, Love. It could also explain why Hong Kong would drop anything and everything he was doing to hang out with Iceland, an excuse to get him out of that house and escape those bloody gits even for a few hours.”

England tightens his arm around China’s waist, holding the other close as he casts his eyes towards the cracked pavement, his own dark thoughts spiralling in his head.

“You’re right, you know.”

China and England pause in surprise at the sound of Iceland’s voice, turning on their heels they start trying to apologise to the younger nation only to have it brushed off with a wave of a hand and a shy smile.

“When I first met Hong Kong at the world meeting, it was on one of the days where all of the other Nordic nations had apparently come to the same conclusion of picking on Iceland for entertainment during the meeting. They were more overbearing than usual and I couldn’t stay around and handle it. When the break was finally called, I ran. I ran into one of the bathrooms and hid, I just couldn’t understand why the people who were supposed to believe in me… support me and… love me could act so cruel, so dismissive. I cried that day, for the first time in decades, I sobbed but I couldn’t bring myself to care, I was done.”

He broke off sharply, pulling away from Hong Kong’s side as he fiddles with the fabric of his jumper absently, he looks up at his new family. People, who even though were not supposed to, didn’t have to waste their time looking after him and caring for him, were all standing around him sending him encouraging smiles. He offers a sad smile knowing that all of the pain he had felt that day was shining in his eyes.

“I did something stupid, something I will never be proud of and will always regret…”

England, having a feeling that he knew exactly what the younger European nation was referring to, stepped forward. Releasing China’s waist, he places both of his hands on Iceland’s shoulders feeling how much they were quivering with repressed pain. He offers another reassuring smile before kissing the younger nation on his forehead gently.

“Eiríkur, I want you to know that no matter what you say to either of us it will not make us love you any less. You will always be our son, always be a member of this family. We have a stronger bond than any born family ever could because we chose to be with you as your family and you chose us, trust me.”

Iceland nods his head, he isn’t sure if it were the use of his human name; the complete sincerity in the other man’s eyes or the words that had been spoken but he could feel himself relaxing until he finds the strength to pull away from the embrace. Taking a deep breath, Iceland lets his gaze fall self-consciously to England’s shoes as he slowly pulls up the sleeve of his left arm exposing white criss-crossed scars along his pale skin.

“Hong Kong found me, he said that he was looking for me because he had noticed what the others were doing and wanted to know if I was okay. He patched me up and held me as I cried, he didn’t even look disappointed or disgusted just kind of sad as he looked at my wrists. He asked me what was wrong and I don’t know what it was but I found myself telling him everything. I felt lighter afterwards, better than I had in months. He gave me his number and told me to contact him whenever I wanted to talk or just get out of the house. He was the first person to listen to me, talk to me, get to know me.”

Iceland tugs his sleeve down, covering his arms once more, hiding the scars he was so ashamed of. Feeling a warm hand being placed on his forearm gently, resting just above the scars, Iceland turns his eyes upwards his eyes widening in wonderment. There was no judgement held in any other eyes, not England’s and not China’s as they look back at him with nothing but love and acceptance.

“Hong wasn’t disappointed or disgusted because he was bought up knowing that this isn’t a weakness nor is it a misguided scream for attention. It is a show of someone’s inner strength, it tells us that no matter what you have faced, no matter what you are dealing with or have dealt with, how low you feel you are still fighting; still pushing through, aru.”

“What do you mean?”

Iceland asks confused as his gaze flickers between England and China as Hong Kong was still stood next to his side silently offering him strength as he often did. England suddenly releases his arm once more, lifting his own and repeats Iceland’s earlier movement of pushing his shirt sleeve up. Iceland feels his eyes widen at the criss-cross scars littering England’s own wrist. It made him realise that the couple in front of him truly understood, he felt relieved to not be as alone as he had initially thought but he also felt saddened that the older man had felt so alone and hurt at some point in his immortal life.

“I haven’t done it for centuries now but the reminder will always be there; it reminds me that I am a fighter, a survivor. That no matter what life has thrown at me I will always fight for survival and make it out stronger than before. China was adamant that I would never be ashamed of my scars, he would always explain to me what they meant to him, whenever he looked at them and in time I began to believe him.”

England pulls the small teen into his arms, rubbing a hand comfortingly up and down the trembling form resting against his chest. He leans his cheek against the other head listening as Iceland releases all of his pent-up frustrations and all of the pain he had bottled up, his tears soaking into England’s clothes. He listens as the cries turn to relief and happiness as thin arms come to wrap around his own waist in return.

“þakka pér fyrir, þakka pér Faðir.”

England simply hugs the Icelandic teen closer, his eyes meeting China’s whose amber eyes were shining with his own tears as he stares at his husband feeling touched at the words the other man had said. He watches as England places a loving kiss to the white-blond strands.

“There is nothing to thank me for, Eiríkur. You are our son and we will always love and support you no matter what.”

Iceland nodded happily, pulling out of the other embrace and accepting the handkerchief England offers with a breathless laugh. Wiping his eyes, Iceland takes a deep breath, smiling happily up at both of his adoptive parents before tucking himself back under Hong Kong’s arm comfortably, receiving quiet laughs from everyone else.

“Let’s go, aru. I am sure Sweden will be waiting for us.”

Feeling England wrap an arm around his waist once more, China sighs contently, loving the feeling of the warm appendage, allowing his head to rest lightly against his husband’s side as they continue their walk towards the restaurant.

“Thank you, Yao.”

China tilts his head slightly to gaze up at the sincere emerald eyes smiling down at him before furrowing his own eyes in confusion.

“Whatever for, Yà sè?”

England flushes slightly, tugging the smaller man closer to his side as they walk down the quieting streets.

“I don’t think I have ever thanked you for all the times you saved my life back then, I want you to know that I am grateful for you. Even when I was a complete idiot you never truly left me. I love you, Yao.”

Yao could feel himself chocking up at such sweet words and could only wrap his own arm around Arthur’s waist in response. He reaches up on his tiptoes, placing a chaste kiss to the Englishman’s cheek before resting his head back against the other's side.

“You have nothing to thank me for, Yà sè. You mean everything to me and I would be devastated without you in my life, we dealt with that once before and never again will I allow you to get away from me. We have ài lǐ kè and Jia Long with us now. Yà sè, wǒ yě ài nǐ”

Meanwhile, Hong Kong tightens his arm around Iceland’s shoulders, talking quietly as they follow closely behind their parents, he presses a kiss to the smaller boy’s temple delighted in the soft blush which dusts across his pale cheeks. He takes the opportunity to whisper.

“Who are you going to escape with when we become too much for you now, Xiăo didi.”

“I think you will find, Jia Long that I am, in fact, older than you and I don’t think that will be necessary bróðir.”

"Be that as it may, Eiríkur. I look after you, take care of you and clearly you idolise me, so therefore you are Wǒ de Xiăo didi.”

Iceland laughs at the level of certainty in his brother’s voice and couldn’t help but concede, especially when he notices the amused looks being given to them over the shoulders of their parents. Besides, the expression of delight on his friend’s face was worth it anyway.

“Alright, þakka pér, Eldri bróðir.”

“Good, now all we need to do it teach you to say it in Chinese.”

The family of four share a laugh as they walk down the darkening streets of London, nearing their destination.

The small family finally arrives in front of the restaurant and noticing Sweden was indeed already waiting outside for them as China had predicted.

Though, England being the first to spot the taller nation, gently pulls Yao to a halt before, ignoring the questioning glance of his husband, turns towards Iceland who was still snickering about something with Hong Kong. Tapping the smaller nation on the shoulder and upon getting the others attention, he points towards the building.

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion both Iceland and Hong Kong turn their attention towards the direction their father had pointed. A few seconds later, and as soon as the white-blond teen spots what, or in this case, who England was indicating to releases a squeal of delight, a very manly squeal, and before any can register what was happening, Iceland had disappeared.

England and China share a fond look, knowing that they would, embarrassingly enough, still react in a similar fashion after extensive periods apart. Something Hong Kong teased them about whenever he could. Though they did chuckle at the completely bewildered look on their other son’s face.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

Hong Kong asks no one in particular but does get to watch as his mother smacks his father round the back of the head saying something along the lines of teaching their son some bad habits but he ignores them in favour for scanning the thinning crowds for his brother.

After a few seconds, Hong Kong snickers drawing the attention of his parents who, up until a moment ago, were exchanging insults and scathing comments, though they were still smiling at each other as they did so Hong Kong wasn’t really bothered.

“What, pray tell, are you laughing at, Hong?”

Hong Kong merely points, too busy snickering to answer his father verbally, Iceland had apparently run straight towards a startled Sweden. The Icelandic teen was currently hugging the Swede tightly around his waist after colliding with the taller nation. Sweden, after taking a second or two to recover, wraps his arms around his boyfriend seeming to shake of the fact that Iceland had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“Hallå, Eiríkur.”

He pulls the smaller teen closer, delighting in the feeling of having his Iceland snuggled against his chest once more after almost a month of no contact. He kisses the white-blond hair fondly.

“Hallō, Berwald. I missed you.”

Sweden chuckles softly at his young lover who turns to pout up at him cutely, though his voice was still muffled as he had yet to pull away from the older nation’s chest.

“You saw me earlier.”

“That was too long ago.”

Before Sweden could answer his boyfriend, he spies England, China and Hong Kong walking towards them, the latter still snickering into his hand as China looks to be reprimanding the smaller Asian though he was still smiling at his son.

“Alright, Eiríkur. You need to detach yourself from Berwald if you wish to be able to walk into the restaurant without hindrance.”

Iceland pulls back from Sweden with a small pout, he pushes his lower lip out as he forces his eyes to widen into his own version of puppy dog eyes, looking at England through his fringe. The blond nation responds with a simple raise of one of his large eyebrows and a light smirk playing on his lips as he watches the teen sigh lightly before kissing Sweden on the cheek and pulling away.

“Alright, Faðir.”

Nodding in response, England is surprised to watch as Iceland completely detached himself from his boyfriend and skips happily towards his father before sliding under the Brit’s arm comfortably, smiling up at England who shakes his head fondly. Kissing Iceland’s forehead and leading him into the building wrapping an arm around the teen’s shoulders.

“Reservation for Kirkland-wang.”

“Of course, is this a family dinner or a special occasion?”

“Just a casual family dinner with my husband, Yao Wang. My son’s Eiríkur Kirkland and…?”

England pauses, to look at Hong Kong inquisitively who simple responds with a small smirk, clearly enjoying watching his father in such a predicament. Sighing, England pinches the bridge of his nose trying to hide his mirth, though because Iceland was still tucked into his side he could see it.

“Which would you prefer this evening?”

“I think Jia Long Wang tonight, Fuqin.”

He smiles innocently at England who glares at his son playfully, and sends a subtle wink at Iceland who tries to stifle his giggles against his hand and by burying his face in his father’s side.

"Jia Long… he finds it amusing to switch between his English and Chinese names, especially when we go out for dinner. Anyway, this is Berwald Oxenstierna, my son’s partner.”

The hostess merely smiles at the group, focusing on the young boys before turning her attention to England with a bright smile.

“Well you certainly seem to have your hands full with these two?”

“Oh no, nothing like that, they are so very well behaved. You could never ask for better son’s in all honesty. They are ones to be proud of.”

England smiles down at Iceland when he feels a small arm being wrapped around his waist in a hug, looking down he sees a bright blush on the young teens face before he kisses the boy on the head once more tightening his arm around the other’s shoulders. He quickly glances over his shoulder and could see Hong Kong leaning into his mother’s embrace as well fighting his own embarrassment as well as pride at hearing such praise from his parent.

“Of course, are you all from England then?”

“No, I was born and raised here in London but Yao was born in Beijing, China. Eiríkur was born in Reykjavik, Iceland and Jia Long in Hong Kong. Berwald, I believe was born in Stockholm, Sweden.”

“Oh? That is interesting. Well, how about I lead you to your table now?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

As the small group took their seats around the table for 6, Yao looks towards Arthur who was placing his jacket across the back of his chair smartly. Hong Kong, Iceland and Sweden were sitting down along the opposite side of the table.

“Are all staff like that in England, aru?”

England turns his attention to his husband, who was playing with his cutlery, questioningly.

“Like what?”

“Talkative? She was very inquisitive, aru.”

Yao places his fork down to glare in the direction the hostess had retreated, uncomfortable with how friendly the woman had been along with how many personal questions she had asked about his family.

“No, I don’t suppose so. Though I know they are in many upscale restaurants, they are supposed to be apparently, it is their job to put the customers at ease, help them relax.”

“Well I didn’t like her.”

Arthur chuckles at Yao, he leans over to brush his lips against the others temple making the older man stutter and blush. At that moment, before anyone else could comment on the staff and employees of English restaurants a small group of waiters arrive at the table, placing steaming hot dishes of food in front of each occupant, who all look down at their meals puzzled.

“Ummm we haven’t ordered anything yet.”

Hong Kong states as the waiters walk off without a word, he gazes down at his meal and smiles when he sees his favourite dish from Hong Kong. Seeing his father shifting in his chair out of the corner of his eyes, Hong Kong lifts his gaze towards the man. Staring in awe when he notices the bright red blush dusting his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck nervously eyes fixed on his own meal of fish and chips.

“Well, it was our first meal out as a family and I wanted it to be special, so I called up the restaurant and had them prepare dishes of each of your favourite meals. I had to do a bit of research for the two of you Eiríkur, Berwald but I hope you enjoy it.”

Arthur breaks of embarrassment increasing as everyone at the table continues to stare at him in varying degrees of shock and disbelief. He can feel his shoulders beginning to tense and his hand starting to shake as the silence stretches for a few extra seconds.

China, on the other hand, takes a bit from his plate and humming in delight turns his attention back to his husband. Noticing the slightly shaking appendages, he gently takes a hand in his own, placing a feather-light kiss to the knuckles and smiles at the shy grin he receives.

“Xiéxié, Yà Sè. It is perfect.”

Yao watches in amusement as he watches Arthur visibly relax into his seat at the praise, the tension slowly bleeding out of his muscles as she brushes a pleased kiss to the other cheek gratefully.

“I am glad, Love.”

There small interaction seems to break the others out of their stupor because each of them take a small bite out of their own foods, each one making a sound of approval at the taste. All except for Iceland whose eyes had simply widened in astonishment, he looks between his plate and the Englishman, who was watching him back anxiously.

“Kjötsūpa?”

England nods in confirmation still gripping China’s hand waiting for Iceland’s verdict.

“It’s perfect. I haven’t eaten this in so long, þakka pér, Faðir.”

Once more England releases a huge breath of relief making chuckles ripple through the table as he grins widely at the young European nation, he was happy that everyone was enjoying the dishes he had chosen.

The rest of the meal passes pleasantly, each nation making casual small talk, avoiding any conversations about politics, countries and tomorrow’s meeting, as they continue to eat their meals. Each would pause occasionally to compliment the Englishman on the food but he would simply brush them off with modesty, feeling content that everyone was enjoying themselves.

After their main meal were finished, more waiters make their way towards the table to clear off the now empty dishes before others came forward with plates filled with various desserts. Two slices of Victoria Sponge cake were placed down in front of England and China, the latter’s eyes going wide with recognition before shining with anticipation. A Cantonese mango pomelo was set down by Jia Long who, without waiting for everyone to be served, picks up his spoon and begins eating straight away.

A slice of Toscakaka, an almond caramel cake before Sweden who mutters a quiet thank you towards the English nation before placing a forkful in his mouth. Finally, a large plate of Lakkris Toppar was placed down in front of Iceland who beams brightly at Arthur, thanking the other profusely before taking one of the liquorice filled treats barely containing the groan of appreciation at the delicious taste exploding across his tongue.

“When did you have time to make all of these, aru?”

“Well, you remember when I said that I still had a few preparations to finish in time for tomorrow’s meeting? I didn’t mean to lie to you but I had actually completed them all yesterday and instead spent my time here to bake everything. I was going to tell you but I wanted it all to be a surprise. I’m sorry.”

“No!”

Yao says sharply, pointing his fork at Arthur who looks at his partner in surprise.

“Don’t apologise for this, Arthur. It was so thoughtful and sweet of you to spend your time doing something like this for us, I never want you to apologise for doing this.”

Arthur nods his head slowly, smiling at Yao who kisses his lips chastely, feeding the Englishman a small forkful of cake lovingly, the couple expertly ignoring Hong Kong’s snickers and Iceland’s shy giggles from across the table.

“I didn’t know you could bake?”

Iceland enquires taking another bite of his liquorice dessert, eager to learn more about his adoptive father.

“Most nations believe that because I cannot cook it means that everything I make turns out burnt, inedible or just wrong in some way but what most do not know is that there is a difference between cooking and baking.”

“You are really good. I think you should try baking something for the meeting tomorrow or the day after, it would shock the other nations and hopefully enough to make them shut up for the duration.”

England chuckles at his son, vouching to himself mentally that he would make sure to have some liquorice in the house for the young European nation with how he was devouring the plate of desserts in front of him.

“I am not so sure about that but it would be amusing to watch that Frog eat something I make and compliment it just for me to tell him that I baked it. Though I am not sure if anyone would eat them.”

“I would for sure. Jia Long, Móðir and Berwald would as well, and I am sure that some nations in the commonwealth would like to eat your desserts.”

“I will think about it, how about that?”

England says but can already feel himself caving at the delighted grin Iceland directs towards himself before the younger goes back to attacking his treats, while simultaneously trying to defend his plate from a curious Jia Long. Giving up a few seconds later, Iceland takes one of the treats, cutting it up into quarters he offers a piece to everyone at the table who takes them.

The dinner ends with Iceland kissing Sweden sweetly on the cheek which the taller nation responds by kissing his boyfriend on the forehead softly. He walks off towards the hotel designated to all nations of the world for the meeting after one final hug from Iceland and a quick goodbye towards the rest of the family along with a thank you for the invitation to dinner.

As soon as the family of four return home to the manor it is closing to half 9 in the evening and as they each hang their coats up in the entrance hall they each offer goodnights, hugging each one in turn before heading up to their own rooms for some sleep before the meeting tomorrow. England follows Iceland up to his room, placing a soft kiss to the teenager’s head, the older nation brushes the strands of hair back lovingly before pulling the covers up to Iceland’s chin.

Walking back out of the room, England calls a soft goodnight before turning off the lights and closing the door with a quiet click. Instead of heading to his and China’s bedroom, however, the Englishman walks back down the stairs and into the kitchen. Turning on the light the blond island nation proceeds to prepare his counter tops, covering them with an array of utensils and ingredients.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Icelandic  
> þakka pér fyrir - Thank you  
> Faðir - Father  
> Bróðir - Brother  
> Eldri bróðir - Older Brother   
> Hallō - Hello/Hey  
> Kjötsūpa - Meat stew  
> Móðir - Mother  
> Chinese  
> Yà sè - Arthur  
> ài lǐ kè - Eirikur   
> Xiăo didi - Younger Brother   
> wǒ yě ài nǐ - I love you too  
> Wǒ de Xiăo didi - My Younger Brother  
> Fuqin - Father  
> Xiéxié - Thank you  
> Swedish  
> Hallå - Hello


	7. World Meeting Day One

_Chapter Seven: World Meeting Day One_

Iceland woke to the soft sound of Hong Kong’s voice near his ear and a warm hand shaking his shoulders gently. Groaning as he fights against unconsciousness, the small European nation slowly peels his eyes open, squinting at the bright light assaulting his pupils as it streams through his open curtains. Blinking rapidly to clear the black spots dancing in his vision Iceland whines once more earning himself a light chuckle from Hong Kong.

“Good morning, Xiăo didi. How are you feeling?”

Iceland turns his gaze to his brother in confusion, wondering why he was asking even though he had just woken up but seeing the hidden concern in the other’s eyes he understands. Realising that he must look a bit rough, his eyes no doubt had bags under them and his skin looking pallor as he had not been able to get much sleep the night before. He had simply been too worried about the meeting today and coming face-to-face with the Nordics for the first time in a month.

“Nervous, tired…”

He knew that there was no point in trying to lie to Hong Kong, not that he ever wanted to, but the other boy knew him well enough to easily tell when he wasn’t telling the truth. So, as embarrassing as it was, he told the truth. Hong Kong didn’t laugh though, again not that he thought the other would but it wasn’t something a teenager wanted to admit to anyone.

He was truly terrified about what Denmark and Norway would say to him or even worse, what they would try to do to China, England or Hong Kong. Would they attempt to take him away? Try to keep him away from his newly formed family? Maybe they had planned to hurt them or him if he didn’t go with them, he didn't want anyone getting hurt because of him.

“Don’t worry so much, Icey. If Denmark or Norway even attempt to do something you know Mǔqin and Fŭqin will stop them, I am sure that Sweden will step in if he has too. Though I have a few doubts about them trying anything in front of the number of world nation’s that are going to be in attendance, it would be too big a risk to take.”

Hong Kong sits down on the edge of the bed watching silently with a sad smile as Iceland pulls himself up to rest his back against the headboard. His violet eyes lock onto the other boy’s face, tracking the worry lines across his forehead dejectedly, he didn’t want to make people worry about him constantly.

“I know, Hong. What about after the meeting though? I wouldn’t put it past them to wait until most have left when the meeting is called to a close, it would be easy to grab someone in that hassle…”

Iceland, sighing loudly, shifts slightly, leaning his forehead against the other nation’s shoulder sighing contently when he feels delicate fingers run through his hair soothingly. The smell of firecrackers filling his nose setting his frayed nerves at ease.

“How about this, I will stay with you the entire time. As soon as the meeting ends I will not let you leave my sight to the best of my ability.”

The Asian nation watches as his brother relaxes further into his frame from his ministrations, he could practically feel some of the tension bleeding from stiff muscles.

“Really? You mean it?”

The relief in the European countries voice makes Hong Kong frown, saddened that such a sweet and innocent person had to feel such insecurities and fears especially seen as said emotions were installed by someone the smaller nation had once considered family. Wrapping one arm around Iceland’s shoulders and the other around his hips, Hong Kong pulls the smaller country closer, making him virtually sit on his lap effectively tucking his brothers face in the crook of his neck.

“I promise, Icey. I won’t let you out of my sight, even if I end up annoying you to high heavens.”

“Good morning, boys. Is everything alright?”

Iceland pulls his face from Hong Kong’s should as both teenagers turn their heads towards the direction the voice had come from only to spot England leaning against the doorframe casually, arms folded across his chest loosely, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Upon seeing that he had gained the attention of his son’s, England pushes himself away from the wooden surface and walks towards the bed ruffling Hong Kong and Iceland’s hair before placing a kiss to each forehead fondly.

“I know you are probably worried, Eir but your mother and I will try our hardest to keep Norway and Denmark away from you today. If they say anything to you just ignore them, they mean nothing to you and whatever they have to say will most likely be false.”

Without missing a beat, England pulls Hong Kong too his feet settling Iceland back onto the bed comfortably as he keeps his eyes on the younger teenager. He assists the European island to his feet a few seconds later earning beaming smiles from both boys as they hug him happily.

“Now I was sent up here to fetch you both for breakfast, so I suggest we hop to it, otherwise we will be dealing with an irate China. After eating we will need to get ready for the meeting. Eiríkur, I want you to wait here because I bought you a new outfit for you to wear.”

Iceland looks up at England in surprise, no one had ever bought him a present without it being his birthday or Christmas, thankful he offers another hug which England returns gladly.

“Bet it’s a three-piece suit!”

Hong Kong sings gleefully as he snickers at the flush dusting across England’s cheeks lightly, glaring down at the Asian nation who merely smirks, dancing out of the room to presumably make his way to the kitchen for his breakfast.

“Thank you.”

Iceland mumbles quietly feeling a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as England turns away from the door in order to smile down at the younger nation, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“You don’t mind wearing a suit, like one of mine?”

He asks nervously, knowing that most older nations call his sense of fashion too stuffy and things only old men wear, he wasn’t sure what a nation a few centuries his junior would think.

“Not at all, I always have liked the outfits you wear to the meetings. Suits always make people look really smart and put together, Norway wouldn’t let me wear one because all Nordics had to wear modern Scandinavian clothing.”

The blond nation feels his smile widen as he ruffles the strands of white-blond hair affectionately gesturing towards the bedroom door grandly, indicating for them to start making their way down to the kitchen otherwise, they really would have to deal with an irritated Yao.

“Well, thank you son. I am glad. Now, come along.”

The two European nations make their way down the stairs towards the sounds of laughter, coming through the archway the pair see Hong Kong and China sitting at the table with steaming plates of food in front of them, two more in the empty seats.

“Finally, I was starting to think you would never make it down the stairs, aru.”

China quips as he takes a sip of his tea. England merely chuckles at his husband and after making his way across the room to stand behind the man’s chair bends down to place a chaste kiss to China’s lips bringing a light flush to the other male’s cheeks.

“Good morning to you too, Love.”

Iceland simply walks past the couple, ignoring their behaviour as they tended to act like that every morning, he takes his seat opposite his brother rolling his eyes discreetly at the public display of affection, while Hong Kong fixes his features into an expression of disgust.

“Oh please, keep it in the bedroom, you shouldn’t do this in front of your son’s especially when we are eating; think of our poor virgin eyes!”

He cries woefully as the other three break into chuckles, after England pulls away from China who still was doing an impressive imitation of one of Spain’s tomatoes. They each settle back down to eat their meals, a dish of Chinese steamed buns filled with beef-stew, as Iceland sends a smirk towards Hong Kong.

“Virgin eyes? Speak for yourself, Jia.”

Iceland could feel his smirk widening because, as he had predicted, England and China both choke on the food they were eating, taking sips of their tea to help wash down the bite. Hong Kong, on the other hand, simply stares at his younger brother before bursting into laughter, he watches as Iceland fights a losing battle before joining him.

It takes a few seconds but England and China finally regain the ability to breath normally, as Iceland and Hong Kong force themselves to calm down.

“Eiríkur!”

“Yes, Faðir?”

The white-blond nation tries to give the older European nation as much an innocent expression as possible but feels his smirk fighting to break free at the look of shock still on the other’s face. He glances over at China and nearly cracks at the flabbergasted expression on the Asian nation’s face.

“What, exactly did you mean by that?”

“It’s not like I said I wasn’t a virgin, just implied that I might have looked, maybe a bit more but seriously can you blame me? Have you seen Sweden? Anyway, I am not a child anymore.”

England sighs lightly watching as his son’s smirk fades slowly into a guarded look.

“That’s not what I meant, Eir. Just try to keep it suitable at the table, alright?”

“Alright, Faðir. Sorry.”

“Good. Now, if everyone has finished, we really should start getting ready, aru.”

England, China, Hong Kong and Iceland all arrive at the world meeting building a few minutes late; they want to make sure that all other nations were in attendance before they walk in as it would make it harder for the two Nordic nations to try anything against Iceland.

England, earlier that morning, had sent a few of his workers ahead with all of the desserts he had spent a few hours the night before baking; after having shown the finished products to Iceland. He had instructed them to be placed on a buffet table off to the side of the room for nations to snack on before and after the meeting along with during the breaks.

Many countries are standing around talking to one another when Iceland comes skipping through the open doorway clasping England’s hand in his own as he happily discusses the many English desserts and how they differ from those found in his own country. The Englishman, much to everyone else’s surprise, smiles down at the teenage nation indulgently, chuckling at the other's enthusiasm.

A few nations even pause their own activities to watch the pair as they make their way through the room towards the head of the table where, others were just realising, their name tags sat. Confusion runs through the air as countries begin to wonder, mentally questioning, why Iceland wasn’t sitting or even acknowledging the Nordics sitting as far as possible away from their youngest.

Others who were not pondering the relations, were staring at the Icelandic’s clothes. Instead of his usually white knee-high boots and bowed shirt, he was dressed in brown suit trousers with a matching blazer buttoned down his front; a white long-sleeved shirt, black tie and a deep blue waist coat. He was wearing black, polished dress shoes on his feet.

England, ignoring the others in the room, takes his seat at the head of the table before gesturing for the younger to do the same. France, who was seated beside the Icelandic nations chair chuckles softly when he sees a small pout forming on the teenager’s lips, hearing the younger nation speaking to England in a tone close to a whine.

“Can’t I grab a slice of cake first, please? I mean we can’t have all of your hard work go to waste, you spent hours baking it all.”

The blond nation spies France’s wide-eyed expression from the corner of his eyes and flushes in embarrassment before smiling fondly at Iceland; he tilts his head towards the table chuckling as the other’s face lights up with glee.

“Go on then.”

Placing a quick kiss to the Englishman’s cheek in thanks, Iceland scampers off towards the desserts, his eyes roaming along the table trying to decide which one he wants to eat first.

“I wasn’t aware you could bake, Angleterre?”

England turns towards the French nation, making sure to keep half and eye out for Denmark and Norway, in case they decided to try and speak to Iceland while he was alone.

“No one ever asked. When it became known that I couldn’t cook, everyone assumed it meant I couldn’t bake either but the two are very different. I normally make the desserts at home anyway; my sons have quiet the sweet tooth for them.”

“Sons?”

France questions, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Yes, my sons. Though my husband is quite partial to them also.”

England says with a smirk, finding the French nation’s expression of shock and incomprehension amusing but sadly before France has a chance to reply, China and Hong Kong who were kitted out in their bright red and black traditional Chinese outfits walk into the room. Much like the pair before, the two Asian nations ignore the rest of the gathered countries heading straight towards their seats. Hong Kong on England’s right-hand side, opposite Iceland and China opposite France.

The younger of the two waves to England, before walking his way towards Iceland who was now cutting a slice of Bakewell tart and placing it on a paper plate he was holding in his hand.

After a few more minutes of gossiping and of England sorting through his paperwork, the island nation calls the meeting to order waiting patiently for all nations to take their seats trying to hide his exasperated smile as Iceland and Hong Kong return to the table with a plate almost overflowing with desserts.

As the meeting progresses, China makes sure to keep a close eye on the Nordics, mainly Denmark and Norway because he wasn’t entirely sure where the Finnish man stood on the matter, he notes how Norway’s gaze is fixated on the young nation, glaring darkly. He narrows his own amber eyes as he watches the European nation lean over towards Denmark while whispering something in the other ears, his gaze never wavering.

Iceland, for the most part, is trying his hardest to ignore the heated glare attempting to burn a hole in the back of his head. He makes sure to take diligent notes on all the key points bought up through the various speeches and presentations of other nations and contributes whenever he can. 

He was surprised at how little arguing there was throughout the meeting and that no major fights were having to be stopped; the break passes with no incident, though Iceland was amused to see a mad dash for the buffet table. He had to hold in his chuckle at the smug look on England’s face as he watches all the nations who had ever insulted his cooking snacking on his desserts.

So, it is not surprising that in little to no time the nations are packing their belongings together, collecting all sheets and documents to head home.

England calls the meeting to a close happily, confusion mingling once the island nation turns his attention to Hong Kong and Iceland who were once again picking up pieces of cakes, though only a few remains.

“Come along, Eiríkur, Leon we have a few things to do once we get home.”

“Yes, Faðir.”

“Yes, Fŭqin.”

However, before the small family could make their way towards the door, France appears in front of the Englishman who had been paying attention to Iceland who walks over to his father chewing the last piece of his dessert contently. Upon reaching the older nations side, Iceland silently steps up next to him, gripping the edge of his sleeve tightly as he watches the French nation.

“Bonjour, Angleterre. That meeting, I think deserves some congratulations, mon cher.”

France smiles flirtatiously at the Brit who simply scowls in return, squeezing the young teenagers hand reassuringly when it slips into his own.

“What do you want, Frog.”

“Ah. Désolé, I just wanted to talk to you for a little while, is that so wrong, mon ami?”

“Yes, well, as you can see I am quite busy. So, make it quick.”

Iceland shifts uncomfortably, leaning a little closer to the English nation who takes notice and wraps his arm around the thin shoulders helping to keep the boy at ease, though it does draw France’s attention to the younger of the three.

“Yes, those sons you were talking about, tell me Angleterre, how did this come to be?”

Rolling his eyes at the French’s need for gossip, England looks down at his youngest son smiling fondly at the way Iceland was playing with the fingers draped over his shoulder before turning his attention to France once more.

“That is not a story I will delve into today, France. Now if you will excuse me, I will see you tomorrow.”

England begins to turn himself and Iceland around, steering them so they are walking towards China and Hong Kong who were discussing something next to the buffet table still, unaware of the pair approaching. He ignores the wounded cries and overdramatic rambling of his French neighbour, choosing to gather his belongings and leave as soon as possible.

“I still don’t understand why he has to flirt with you at every meeting, aru. It is harassment, Arthur, you should do something about it.”

China begins as soon as he spies his husband walking back towards him. The European nation simply sighs good naturedly, releasing Iceland’s hand and watching as the smaller moves to stand behind Hong Kong, resting his chin on top the others shoulder with a little difficulty.

“What would you suggest I do about it, Yao? This is France we are talking about, he harasses everyone.”

His husband scowls darkly at the French nation who is just exiting the room, apparently chasing after another victim.

“I know that… it’s just that he seems to harass you more than anyone else. But can’t you just, I don’t know, avoid him? Threaten him?”

England chuckles softly at China’s frustrated expression, taking the older nation’s hand in his own interlocking their fingers; he raises a thick brow.

“Don’t you think I have tried all of that before, I have been dealing with him for around three centuries give or take a few decades.”

“There has to be something you can do.”

The four-thousand-year-old Asian nation whines out, pouting up at his husband whose eyes light up with mischief when he recognises what the other really was having a problem with.

“You wouldn’t happen to be jealous of France now, would you Yao?”

China pulls his hand from England’s sharply, a dark blush dusting his cheeks as he folds his arms across his chest, sticking his nose up in the air defiantly.

“What? No, of course not! Whatever gave you such a stupid idea?”

England wraps his free hand around the older nation’s waist pulling him close watching in amusement as China’s eyes widen, and his bush deepens. His hands falling to stabilise himself on England’s firm chest as he tilts his head up to snap at the other male until a set of lips press against his own.

“Are you sure, Love? Not even a little jealous of France?”

“Fine, maybe just a little, aru.”

“See now that wasn’t too hard, was it?”

 The European nation can feel his smile widen at the blatant embarrassment on Yao’s face and rewards his husband with another, slightly more passionate kiss causing China to sigh into the others embrace.

“Hey guys, as much as I hate to, and trust me I do, I am going to have to break up this cringy old man flirting because Iceland is gone.”

The pair spring apart violently, their eyes widening in shock as they scan the room looking for some indication that Iceland was still in the room but there was no sign of the young nation.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you keep an eye on him?”

England shouts frantically, frowning down at Hong Kong who was wringing his fingers anxiously, tears coming to his eyes.

“Hey! He was here a second ago! At least I noticed that he was gone, you two were much too busy flirting to keep check on your own children.”

Hong Kong wipes his eyes of all the evidence that he was upset by his father’s accusation.

“You are right, I apologise Leon.”

“Alright, let’s go find him, aru.”

 -

“Get off me! Let go! You’re hurting Noregur.”

Iceland is panicking, Norway had grabbed him from out of the meeting room while the others were distracted, and proceeded to drag him through the corridors. He is trying to twist and pull his aching wrist away from the older nation’s grip attempting to get away from the irritated Norwegian whose finger nails were digging harshly into Iceland’s skin leaving angry crescent-shape indents.

“Shut up, Iceland! I have had just about enough of this pathetic teenage moping, you will be coming home with me now or trust me, you will not like the consequences. Denmark is waiting for us in the car, so hurry up!”

Norway growls out in frustration still struggling to pull the younger nation towards the aforementioned car sitting idle along the curb. Iceland is now frantically tugging his arm, while digging his heels into the gravel in an attempt to hinder the others progress. Hoping that his family will turn up soon and help him get away.

“No, let go off me! I want Faðir, I want to go home. Stop!”

Iceland’s struggles become almost frantic as his worry reaches an all-time high, he can feel tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes, his eyes stinging as he blinks them away rapidly. Norway yanks the resisting teen forward violently, almost pulling his arm out of the socket, it causes him to cry out in pain, praying that nothing had been torn.

Getting frustrated with the amount of fuss his younger brother was making in the middle of the street and worried that someone walking close by would hear, he halts suddenly. Spinning around, he brings his free hand up to connect with the side of Iceland’s face; backhanding him with enough force to bring the younger to the floor.

“I told you to stop struggling!”

Norway leans forward, reaches a hand down to drag the teenager back to his feet once more to continue his way towards Denmark, but Iceland cries out flinching away from the man standing over him; his eyes clenching shut tightly, hands bought up to his face and knees being drawn to his chest to ward of any other potential attacks.

“Is everything alright here gentleman?”

Freezing in surprise, the duo looks up to find a police officer strolling towards them, one hand resting almost casually on top the baton hooked to his belt while the other was holding onto a belt loop. He glances down at the younger of the duo in front of him with mild concern before crossing his arms, raising an eyebrow at Norway who glares at the man.

“Everything is fine here, officer.”

“May I ask what you were doing?”

Norway looks down at Iceland who was still curled into himself crying lightly, turning his head, he glances behind him at the car only to find Denmark watching, laughing before deciding to ignore the Dane and turn his attention back towards the police officer.

“I was just taking my little brother home after work, and we really need to hurry. One of my friends is waiting for us.”

“I am sure he can wait while I ask you both a few questions because no matter how you look at it, this situation is cause for concern.”

“Of course…”

The officer smirks at the man’s unease and pulls a small notebook out of his breast pocket, flicking to a clean page he glances between Norway and Iceland before focusing his attention on the older nation.

“Alright, name?”

“Lukaz Bondevik.”

“Relationship to this young boy here?”

“I am his elder brother.”

“Alright and where were you taking this young man?”

“We were heading home after my meeting ended, he was acting out and I thought to get back as soon as possible.”

The officer jots down the answers into his book before nodding sharply. He crouches down in front of Iceland who wipes his tears away with a shaking hand starring up at the man shyly.

“Hello there, son. Can you tell me your name and age?”

“Eiríkur Kirkland and I am 15.”

He sniffles lightly embarrassed to be seen crying like a small child by this stranger but feeling to scared and vulnerable to do much about it, he lets his tears fall silently.

“Do you know this gentleman?”

He indicates to Norway standing behind himself and watches as Iceland nods his head slowly.

“Yes, he is one of my Faðir’s colleagues.”

“Faðir?”

“My father.”

“Ah, I see and where is your father?”

Iceland points shakily over his shoulder indicating towards the building he had been dragged out of previously.

“He is inside. He was dealing with a difficult colleague with Moðir and Leon and I were waiting close by so we could all go home together. We have a few things we needed to deal with once we got home.”

“So, you were supposed to go home with your dad?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, son. How about we all wait here for your father to come out and we can clear this entire situation up so that you can go home?”

Iceland nods his head slowly watching as the officer gets to his feet, taking hold of Norway’s bicep as if he were expecting the other to attempt to make a break for it.

As if summoned, the doors to the building fly open with such a force that the sound of wood hitting stone echoes across the car park. Iceland can’t help but let out a relieved cry when he spies England running out of the building and across the gravel, his thick eyebrows furrowed with worry as he spots his son on the floor.

The blond drops to his knees next to the frightened teen, smoothing the white-blond hair away from the others face gently. The Englishman scans Iceland’s face closely taking in the bright red mark printed on the pale cheek and the fresh tear tracks streaming down his face. He pulls the younger nation into his lap, holding him against his chest, rocking them both back and forth as he runs a hand down the trembling nation’s back, his other carding through the short locks.

“Oh Eiríkur. I was so worried about you. I am so glad you are alright. You are okay, right? God, I wouldn’t know what to do if I lost you.”

Iceland sighs, content to be in the safety of the older nation’s arms, he uncurls from his tight ball and burrows his face in England’s shoulder, fists clenching the material of the others shirt.

“I’m okay, Faðir. I was so scared.”

“I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Umm. Sorry to bother you, Mister...?”

England looks up startling at the strange voice, spying the police officer he offers up a small sheepish smile for his inattentiveness, carding another hand through Eiríkur’s hair as the boy begins to cry softly this time in relief and happiness.

“Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland.”

“Right, well I am sorry to bother you Mr. Kirkland. I am officer Windsor.”

Nodding in greeting England shifts on the floor a bit, watching as China and Hong Kong come to stand behind him each eyeing the Norwegian still being held securely by the officer, suspiciously.

“What can I do for you this afternoon, officer?”

Mr Windsor clears his throat indicating to the nation by his side causing all eyes to narrow dangerously.

“Actually, sir. I wanted to know the relationship you have with this man.”

“He is a colleague of mine. We work together on occasion.”

“Right well, Mr. Bondevik here stated that he was young Eiríkur’s older brother and that you gave him permission to take him home because he was misbehaving?”

England can feel his expression morphing into one of annoyance at the revelation but he keeps his emotions in check and the only outward sign of his irritation was to pull Iceland tighter to his chest resting his chin gently on top the teen’s head.

“No, this is Eiríkur’s brother. I would never allow this man to look after my son again!”

“Again, sir?”

“Yes, I allowed Lukas to look after Eiríkur for a few days while Yao and I were away at a conference. Leon decided to stay at a friend’s house. He arrived home late in the evening with a mild concussion, bruising around his elbow and knees. He hadn’t eaten or slept for two days and was terrified beyond belief.”

“Okay, with your permission, I will write this up back at the station and give him a warning for child abuse, neglect and attempted kidnapping. It will be on his records permanently this way.”

England nods at the officer as he writes some more notes in his book before dropping Norway’s arm and signalling that he was free to go. He gave the nation a warning to stay away from the small family and for England to contact him directly in case something else happened. The Norwegian nation glares back at the officer and turns on his heels, leaving without even a word of apology.

“One more question, sir. Is this gentleman also a colleague?”

England looks behind himself to find the officer was gesturing towards China who is staring at the teen in his husbands lap with a concern frown.

“This is Yao Wang, my husband. Eiríkur and Leon’s mother.”

Officer Windsor stands still for a few seconds shaking his head back and forth as if trying to figure out a complicated puzzle before glancing between England and China. He releases a chuckle when he spots the smirking face of the Englishman directed towards a scowling and blushing Asian.

“Mother?”

He questions trying to stifle his laughter.

Yao glares down at Arthur when his smirk turns into a wide beaming smile, which he aims at his husband unperturbed. The blond silently indicates towards a now sleeping Iceland in his lap; getting the message the older man, though still glaring, steps forward, crouching down in order to slip his arms around the napping teen, placing a quick kiss on his partner’s lips China stands with Iceland cradled against his chest.

This allows Arthur to stand up off the ground, dusting down his trousers.

“Yes, when Leon was younger he was taught that mothers were the ones who typically did all the cooking and cleaning and so started referring to Yao as his mother because I was father. Of course, I did everything I could to encourage him. Eiríkur just happened to adopt the title as well.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Chinese  
> Xiăo didi - Little brother  
> Dānmài - Denmark  
> Nuówēi - Norway  
> Mŭqin - Mother  
> Fuqin - Father  
> Ruìdiǎn - Sweden  
> Icelandic  
> Noregur - Norway  
> Faðir - Father  
> Svíþjóð - Sweden  
> French  
> Angleterre - England  
> Bonjour - Hello  
> Mon cher - My dear  
> Mon ami - My friend  
> Desole - Sorry  
> Norwegian  
> Island - Iceland  
> Danmark - Denmark


	8. Ramifications

_Chapter Eight: Ramifications_

China places Iceland down on one of the sofas in the front room, with a sigh, once they return home from the meeting; each member of the small family feeling drained after the stressful events of the day.

England gives a loving kiss to his husband’s cheek before walking through to the kitchen determination; breaking through his exhaustion, to make some tea in hopes of calming everyone’s frayed nerves. He potters around the kitchen for a few minutes, pouring boiling water into a ceramic teapot, covering it with a hand-knitted cozy to keep it warm as he starts to prepare a healthy snack to mitigate all the treats Iceland and Hong Kong had devoured earlier. He is just placing the sandwiches and some fruit onto a tray when he hears shuffling coming from behind himself.

Turning around England offers a small, soft smile towards Hong Kong who stands in the doorway to the kitchen shifting from foot-to-foot nervously. Arthur, noticing the way his son was acting, watches as Leon locks his gaze on to the floor in front of his feet and how his hands clench around each other in front of himself, delicate fingers twisting into impossible knots.

“Dad?”

If England wasn’t certain before that something was bothering Hong Kong, he was now. His son never shows such open signs of anxiety and he most certainly does not call him dad, not since he had learnt the Chinese words for it. He quickly abandons his trays and gestures for the teenager to take a seat at the dinner table while taking his own.

Arthur watches silently as Hong Kong places his clenched hands on the tables wooden surface, staring at the appendages and fingers as they continue to twist around each other; that is until Arthur places one of his own hands on top of Hong Kong’s rubbing a thumb soothingly along tense muscles.

“What’s the matter, Sweetie?”

He studies Hong Kong’s down-turned face carefully as the silence stretches for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry.”

Hong Kong blurts out suddenly, lifting his gaze up so he could lock his amber eyes with the island nation’s emerald ones; he could feel his own stinging with the beginnings of tears.

“Whatever for, Le?”

The confusion was evident as England stares at his son in shock, though he smiles, silently encouraging his son to elaborate.

“I promised not to let him leave my sight, I told him nothing bad was going to happen to him; that I wouldn’t let it. He was almost taken away from us dad, we could have lost Iceland and it would have been all my fault.”

England once more feels floored by the things his son was saying and by the amount of fear and horror toning his words, he knew that the younger nation believed every word he was saying, as he finally allows his tears to fall, leaving tracks down his cheeks.

As quickly as possible, England shakes himself from his stupor and gets up from his seat, crossing the short distance to where Hong Kong was sitting, head in his hands, shoulders shaking with the force of his cries. The older nation kneels next to his son’s chair on the tiled floor, placing a hand gently on the younger’s knee, squeezing comfortingly.

“None of this was your fault, Leon. I am sorry if anything your mother and I did or said made you feel otherwise. Your mother and I were not paying as much attention as we should have been to either you or your brother and that is why Norway took the opportunity to try something. However, _you_ noticed Hong, you were the first one to realise Iceland was not there anymore. Not your mother. Not I. You. I don’t want you thinking any of this was your fault, alright?”

Hong Kong looks imploringly at the blond nation, tears still flowing down his flushed cheeks as he unclenches his hands turning one of them around to grasp England’s.

“But he still got hurt.”

“Yes, but tell me, was it your hand that struck him?”

“Well, no but…”

“Were you the one to drag him out of that building against his will?”

“No but…”

“Then it was not your fault Leon. Eiríkur, I am sure, wouldn’t want you to feel otherwise, okay?”

Hong Kong allows a small smile to pull at the corners of his lips, taking a deep breath to calm himself down while he watches his father stand up from the floor with a quiet groan making him chuckle breathlessly. He smiles down at his son ruffling his soft brown locks affectionately.

“Okay, thanks Dad.”

England places a soft kiss to the teenager’s head, gently wiping the tear tracks from his flushed face with the pads of his thumbs.

“You are welcome, Son. Now, how about you help me carry the tea through to the living room?”

-

China runs a finger down the freshly forming bruise on the young European nation’s cheek with a disheartened expression. Pushing himself up from his perch by the other’s head slowly so not to wake Iceland from his nap. He walks to a cabinet on the opposite side of the room digging through its contents until he comes across the first aid kit always kept there.

Pulling the box out, China immediately returns to his seat on the arm of the sofa, opening the kit he pulls out a clear glass bottle of Witch Hazel Water, placing it along with a small bandage to place on the bruise, some pain killers, a support bandage and a sling just in case, on the coffee table.

“Mamma?”

A quiet voice calls uncertainly.

China places the rest of the box down on the floor by his feet before turning to offer a small, albeit strained, smile towards his groggy son. He absently leans over to brush a few stray strands of hair from the young teen’s face.

“How are you feeling, hŭzĭ?”

Iceland looks in front of himself, staring inattentively down at his feet, frowning in thought as he searches for an answer to the other question, shaking his head after a few seconds.

“I don’t know. My throat hurts a bit, my cheeks and eyes sting and feel a little tight and I have a bad pain in my left shoulder and wrist. My stomach feels funny; like it can’t decide whether it feels nauseous or not but I am a bit hungry.”

China chuckles softly with his son at the strange description but is quick to lend his assistance when Iceland struggles to pull himself up into the sitting position, swinging his legs around, placing his feet down on the floor, resting back against the sofa cushion with a tired sigh.

“How about we get these injuries patched up while we wait for Arthur and Leon to finish preparing the tea?”

“Okay.”

Iceland watches as China gives him a bright reassuring smile before turning his attention towards all the medical supplies he had placed on the coffee table. He observes the other deciding to pick up the bottle of Witch Hazel Water before the man stands up, pouring a liberal amount of the clear liquid onto a clean cotton pad. Stepping closer to his son, as he places the bottle back down onto the table.

“This may feel a little cold.”

China cautions to Iceland who merely nods as he watches the older nation sit down by his side. The Asian nation lifts his empty hand up, brushing strands of white-blond hair away from the injured area before applying the medicine to the Icelandic nation’s cheek making sure to be gentle, though he can tell the other is trying valiantly not to flinch away from the contact.

“What is that?”

Iceland questions gesturing to his cheek.

“Witch Hazel Water. England showed it to me a few decades ago, it is a liquid medicine which is used to bring out bruising quicker, it helps with skin irritations, bites, swelling and can also help with numbing small amounts of pain.”

The Asian nation answers, carefully running the damp cotton pad across Iceland’s cheek one last time ensuring that the entire area had been covered before replacing the pad with the small square bandage. Applying another small amount of Witch Hazel to the fabric, he secures it to the injury placing a soft kiss on top the bandaged area smiling at the breathless chuckle he was to pull from Iceland.

“Alright, Icey. I am going to check your shoulder quickly, hold still for me I will try to be as gentle as possible.”

China takes hold of the European nation’s left forearm, minding the sprained wrist with care, placing his other hand on the teen’s shoulder. He begins to manipulate the joint feeling for any irregularities as he slowly moves the arm up, stopping abruptly when he hears Iceland cry out in pain.

“I’m sorry Ice. I think we are going to need Arthur to help with this.”

He frowns regretfully at his now pale, trembling son, hating the fact that the young nation has had to suffer at the hands of the ones he once called his family over and over again.

“Need my help with what?”

England calls as he re-enters the living room with a silver tray balanced in his hands, ladled with a teapot and matching set of teacups; Hong Kong on his heels, a tray of finger sandwiches and fruit in his own hands.

“I think Norway dislocated Iceland’s shoulder but he also has a sprained wrist on the same arm, I think you are more suited with dealing with these injuries, Art.”

The blond-haired nation frowns worriedly as he places the tray down onto the coffee table near the medical supplies before sitting down in the seat China vacates for him. The older European nation inspects the bruised, swollen wrist first, poking, prodding and moving the joint carefully, cooing and whispering words of comfort and encouragement to his whimpering son.

“Alright, that is definitely a bad sprain, it is going to need to be bandaged for the next few weeks or so to make sure that it has fully healed.”

After a few more seconds, Arthur reaches across to the table grabbing the support bandage, Witch Hazel and a fresh cotton pad. Copying the Chinese nations earlier movements, England applies a generous amount of liquid to the bruises before he wraps the injured wrist up tightly, making sure that it was being supported correctly.

He moves his attention to the others shoulder and once again makes quick work of inspecting the injured area with a grim expression.

“Eir? Your shoulder is indeed dislocated and I won’t lie to you, this is going to hurt. I am going to have to pop your arm back into the socket and you will need to wear it in a sling for the next few days as the ligaments will need time to heal. I am going to ask your mother to sit next to you and hold your torso still for me, alright?”

Iceland nods his head, his wide violet eyes portraying just how terrified he was truly feeling at the prospect of more pain, though he feels himself relaxing a little when he notices China’s welcoming heat settling beside himself. He leans into his mother’s side, burrowing his face in the crook of the other’s neck when he feels Arthur’s hands back on his shoulder.

China responds by wrapping an arm around his son’s chest securely, brushing a hand through the silvery locks soothingly.

A sharp pop and a muffled cry of pained shock echoes through the otherwise silent room making all present wince, as England snaps the joint back into the correct position. Quickly grabbing the sling from off the table, Arthur proceeds to wrap the arm up securing it comfortably against the teen’s chest.

“Thank you.”

Iceland whispers looking between his parents to show that his words were being directed at them both.

Arthur and Yao smile down at their youngest son, enveloping the pale teen in an embrace being mindful of his injuries.

Hong Kong clears his throat gently, gaining the attention of the other three as he offers a smile to Iceland holding out a steaming cup of tea to the younger teen and two painkillers which he drops into the others open palm. First popping the pills into his mouth as Yao holds the drink before he takes a mouthful swallowing down the medication happily.

“Thanks, Hong.”

“No Problem, Ice.”

Iceland narrows his eyes at the others hurried reply, watching his older brother closely, he inwardly sighs as he realises what kind of thoughts are running through the Asian teenager’s mind while his amber orbs eye his multiple bandages sadly.

“Gēgē, stop that!”

He says sternly, shocking his brother into looking directly into his own violet eyes, their parents stare at his wide-eyed as well, probably not expecting him to speak in Chinese.

“None of this is your fault. Everything that happened earlier today was because of Noregur’s over-protective, obsessive behaviour and Danmörk’s inability to think for himself. Noregur was the one who tried to kidnap me, he was the one who hit me, not you.”

Iceland pulls himself up from his seat between his parents with difficulty, China and England were quick to lend him some assistance which he was grateful for. Placing his half-empty tea cup back onto the coffee table before walking around the furniture towards the Asian teen.

“But you still got hurt; I promised that you wouldn’t have to get hurt by him again.”

Kneeling down in front of his brother, Iceland wraps his good arm around Hong Kong’s neck, drawing the other close to his chest being careful of his injuries.

“It’s not your fault Hong, never think that. Noregur is frankly an insane individual who, along with Danmörk, want to relive his glory days as a Viking. Honestly, they would have eventually found some way to try something.”

Hong Kong smiles sheepishly, wrapping his arms around the smaller nation in response resting his head on top Iceland’s. Thankful that he still had his brother with him.

“Thank you, Icey.”

“No worries, gēgē.”

They pull away from each other chuckling softly at nothing in particular. However, Leon is quick to drag Eiríkur down into his lap carefully when the other tries to move away, stroking the white-blond hair as they younger settles down into his frame with a sigh of contentment.

England and China turn their attention away from their sons to look at each other with equally fond smiles before shrugging their shoulders and pushing themselves up from the sofa. They walk across the room silently each taking a seat on the floor in front of the teenagers. Smiling affectionately at the image of their sons cuddled together happily.

Arthur wraps an arm around his husband’s waist tugging the older nation into his side as Yao reaches over their bodies with his left hand taking Arthur’s right and bringing their now intertwined hands in front of themselves, resting them on his right leg. He rests his head comfortably on the other’s shoulder.

“How are you feeling now, Eir?”

“Much better, Faðir, thank you. Mother did a good job of helping me patch up and both my shoulder and wrist only hurt a little bit but I guess that should begin to fade once the painkillers kick in.”

“That’s good. Do you feel up to eating a small snack?”

Iceland eyes the plate of sandwiches for a few seconds before shaking his head minutely and grasping an apple and a handful of grapes earning an approving nod from his father. Arthur, on the other hand, goes to pick up his own snack only to find his hand being held hostage by Yao who is holding a cheese and cucumber finger sandwich out towards the man, an innocent smile playing on his lips.

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Arthur leans forward and takes a bite chuckling when Yao pops the other half into his own mouth chewing happily, swallowing the blond-haired nation kisses his husband’s lips in thanks.

Iceland watches the interaction with sparkling eyes eating his fruit absently as he snuggles back into Hong Kong’s welcoming embrace.

So this is what it felt like to have a true family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Icelandic  
> Mamma - mum  
> Fadir - Father  
> Chinese  
> Huzi - Endearment for a son  
> Gege - Brother


	9. World Metting Day Two

_Chapter Nine: World Meeting Day Two_

It was the second day of the world meeting and Iceland woke with a slight discomfort running through his body, feeling a sense of dread crawling across his skin as he blinks himself awake preparing himself mentally for the day ahead. Sighing deeply, the Nordic nation pushes the covers back, slowly pulling himself into the sitting position before swinging his legs around putting his feet onto the floor allowing himself to stand up from the bed. Making his way towards the wardrobe on the opposite side of the room, he pulls out a similar outfit as yesterdays, the main differences being the colours. This suit had dark blue trousers, blazer, and waistcoat and a red tie. Iceland throws the clothes on top his bed covers ready for him to change into after he has finished eating his breakfast. Closing the door with a quiet click, Iceland yawns widely before heading down the stairs rubbing his eyes, ridding them of sleep as he steps into the kitchen.

“Morgunn.”

He mumbles dragging a hand tiredly through his hair, seating himself at the table opposite Hong Kong who smirks at him drinking his tea, Iceland rolls his eyes having no idea how his brother could be so chipper in the mornings.

“Good morning, Ice. How did you sleep?”

England questions as he places a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of his son, ruffling the white-blond hair affectionately before moving back to the stove checking his eggs and tomatoes.

“Better than I expected. I woke up a few times but that was simply because I ended up either laying on my arm or pressing the bruise on my cheek.”

China smiles at Iceland, taking a deep sip of his own drink as he leans casually against the counter next to England, not quite watching what his husband was doing but more to simple remain close which Iceland found amusing. Spotting the clean plates lined up along the marble surface Iceland presumed the Asian nation was also waiting to assist in dishing up the food once it was cooked.

“And how is your arm, aru? Any pain?”

Iceland shakes his head at his mother, shrugging his shoulders as best as he could without inflicting any unnecessary pain, taking a long drink from his mug, absently watching his parents continued interactions as he often found himself doing.

“It still hurts a bit but I kind of expected that, nothing a few painkillers wouldn’t help.”

The older Asian nation nods thoughtfully as he turns around to start helping England plate up the finished food, placing a plate piled high with a full English breakfast in front of each place at the table before finally taking their own seats.

“That’s good to hear. I will need to change the bandage on your cheek and re-sling your arm once you have gotten dressed, aru.”

 Iceland nods as he lifts another forkful of food into his mouth, sighing happily at the explosion of taste, England may not be able to cook but nobody could replicate the splendour of a traditional English breakfast, which he mentions making the European nation beam with pride as China and Hong Kong nod in agreement.

They all polish off the rest of their meal in silence, China and England staying behind to wash the dishes while they send Iceland and Hong Kong upstairs to start getting ready for the meeting with instructions to check their briefcases to ensure they had all the relevant documents for the duration.

It takes Iceland much longer than usual to get full changed with only the use of his right hand, finding that he was only able to struggle into his underwear, trousers and socks before he hears his parents making their way to their own bedroom to change for the day. Buttoning up his shirt, is figurative torture, taking a ridiculous amount of time and just as he is beginning to feel frustration creeping in a quiet voice sounds from the doorway, turning on his heels, Iceland flushes when his eyes land on England.

“I’m sorry I forgot how difficult it could be. Would you like some help?”

“Yes, please.”

He mutters embarrassed, feeling like a small child when his father smiles in understanding before walking towards his injured son. England quickly finishes buttoning the white dress shirt before tucking it into the waist band of the other’s trousers. He then grabs the waistcoat, carefully sliding it up the bandaged arm and buttoning that as well. Lastly, he wraps the tie around his son’s neck, expertly knotting it before tucking the fabric under the waistcoat and straitening the shirt collar, brushing down the now completed outfit with a proud smile.

England picks up the blazer, ruffling Iceland’s hair as he drapes the jacket over his arm neatly, leading his son out of the room, and back down stairs to where China is waiting for them wearing his own military uniform much like the one England was currently wearing.

“Come here, Icey.”

China smiles patting the space on the sofa by his side indicating for the young European to take a seat, picking another small square bandage from the first aid kit on his lap. He carefully peels the old bandage from Iceland’s cheek, wiping over the newly exposed skin with an antiseptic wipe, studying the dark blue and black bruise with a frown as he does. Sticking the new bandage in place, China once more places a kiss to the injury, smirking at England’s raised eyebrow.

“I expect this kind of treatment next time I am injured.”

The Brit teases as his husband reaches over to pick up the sling and, as carefully as possible, secures the injured arm back against his son’s chest while replying to England.

“I will kiss your injuries better when you don’t receive them by getting into a pointless fight with France or America at a world meeting.”

England pouts as he helps a giggling Iceland into his blazer, standing his up from the settee just as Hong Kong comes down the stairs wearing one of the suits England had bought for him when he first started attending the world meetings.

“What did I miss?”

The small family of four walks into the meeting hall on time, the air surrounding them feeling sombre compared to their carefree actions the previous day, and anyone who noticed knew that something was wrong or something terrible had happened. Iceland was clinging to England’s hand, eyes on the ground trying to hide the bandage on his cheek in the older man’s side as he hears the voices of the other nations gasping and questioning amongst themselves once they spot the sling and bandages covering his left arm.

England leads his nervous son over to his seat, helping him to sit down between himself and China before the usually stoic nation smiles tenderly, leaning almost impossibly close to the Asian nation, placing a lingering kiss to the other’s lips, smirking when China mutters something, the others cannot catch, into his ear.

“I think you have succeeded in shocking the world into silence, Yàsè.”

The European nation chuckles lightly before responding with another loving kiss to his husband’s lips before kissing both Hong Kong and Iceland on the head as he makes his way towards the podium situated at the front of the hall.

“Alright, seen as everyone should be here by now, I call this meeting into session. Our order of business for this morning is as followed, ‘Global Health Crisis’ as well as the ‘Refugees and migration.’ If the first speaker would like to come up and deliver their views?”

At 1530 England stands from his seat breathing a sigh of relief as he walks up to the podium just as France concludes his speech, which he must admit, held some extremely good points, not that he would ever admit it to the Frenchman.

“I am pleased with the amount of effort you have all put into the meeting these past few days and how much we have managed to cover, so I am calling an end for the rest of the day. However, before you all pack up and leave there is a highly serious matter which has been bought to attention and I would like to resolve it with your help.”

He waits for the nations to settle back down, a few groans breaking through the room at being trapped in the room for an uncertain amount of time as others simply stare up at the Englishman in curiosity wanting to know what was so important.

“I am sure many of you have probably noticed that we have been joined today by all of our micronations. This was not a simple social call or even a political move but a matter of security.”

A wave of confused concern washes through the room as Nations look at one another silently asking their friends and close allies if they had any information, as Japan raises his hand slowly, waiting patiently for England to call on him before he opens his mouth to speak.

“What do you mean by ‘security’, England-san? Has something happened?”

England sighs heavily, rubbing a hand down his face as he gazes out at the nations tiredly, looking at all the intrigued faces before catching the wide-eyed, horrified glances of Norway and Denmark. Who he simply smirks at, a reminiscent gesture from his pirate days.

“We, that is to say, China and myself received some intelligence suggesting, or rather, heavily implying that a threat of attack has been issued against two of our micronations. A threat of invasion and even eradication.”

Quiet, horror-filled gasps echo around the room as a few nations turn to their neighbours; the micronations paling dramatically as they shrink into the comforting arms of their nations. England, however offers them all a small smile of reassurance seen as many of them he considers his younger siblings or his own children.

“I can assure you all that this threat will not be allowed to stand as we know where this disgusting action has come from and will be working on finding the reasoning behind such a threat. That is where all of you come in.”

“Iggy? Which micros were threatened?”

America’s loud voice rings out above the whispers as the blue-eyed nation glances nervously at his own, Molossia, who was trying his hardest to act nonchalant but there is a clear shine of worry in his eyes that England could see.

“Yeh! To threaten the micronations is to theoretically declare war against the nation in which their territories lay!”

Australia shouts out, getting murmurs of agreement from around the room as he pulls Wy closer to his chest as the young girl cuddles back into his embrace, hiding her face in his shoulder, her small body shivering even as a smile tugs at her lips at the simple display of affection.

“The threats were made against Ladonia and Sealand.”

The Englishman spits out between gritted teeth, his hands clenching into fists as they grip the wooden stand in front of himself, his temper boiling at the mere thought of someone harming his younger brother.

To say the two unofficial nations are shocked would be an understatement, Ladonia stands shakily from his chair, cuddling against Sweden’s side who lifts the small, red-hair boy into his lap holding him securely. Meanwhile, Sealand jumps from his seat, running around the table, ignoring the startled calls from Finland, towards England who, though surprised, picks the child up cradling him in his arms, whispering soothing words in his ear as he trembles almost violently.

“Do you happen to know who issued these threats?”

Austria, wrapping a caring arm around Kugelmugel who cuddles close, an artist’s sketchbook on his lap which he appears to be drawing in.

“Who would even want to attack, let alone hurt such cute Niños.”

Spain cries in outrage, staring at the Englishman in desperation, mentally urging the Brit to answer Austria’s question already. England merely smirks at the Spaniard looking around the room as China places two chairs side by side on the raised dais.

“Why don’t you ask them yourselves? Norway, Denmark, if you would be so kind.”

England gestures behind him as best as he could while still holding a small sea port to his chest as said sea port clings to his side his emotions conflicting, as the two Nordics make their way slowly to the front of the room, the Englishman sitting back down in his chair rearranging Sealand comfortably in his lap.

“Uncle Den, Uncle Norge…”

Sealand’s usually loud voice is quiet, almost a whisper sounding so broken that England kisses his little brother on the temple his heart clenching in his chest as the boy stares at his pseudo uncles, tears gathering in his eyes.

“Now if you would kindly tell everyone gathered here, in your own words, why you felt it was necessary to threaten two, not only small, but defenceless micronations.”

England requests politely, knowing the two would not be leaving the room until the nations were satisfied with their answers. Norway, on the other hand, crosses his arms, sticks his nose up in the air scoffing, his usual expressionless mask in place.

“I wasn’t really going to attack them.”

He states monotonously.

“I just needed Sverige to cooperate.”

“And why would you need Schweden to cooperate with you? What were you trying to force him to do?”

Germany glares at the Norwegian, watching as the Northern nation shifts in his seat before pulling his mask back over his features.

“He was playing with Iceland’s feelings; using him for his own gains and I was not about to sit back and watch as my Lillebror was thrown away, heartbroken.”

Hong Kong scoffs from his own seat between China and France shooting his own glare at the Norwegian and Dane; a glare China always insisted he inherited from his father.

“So, let’s get this straight, you somehow find out about Bīngdǎo and Ruìdiǎn dating and threaten the older with the attack of his son’s if he does not stop seeing the other, correct?”

“…Yes.”

Norway answers hesitantly, knowing that with the way Hong Kong worded his question, the other nations were not going to see his good intentions, this interrogation was making him more and more uncomfortable as each second ticked by.

“How did you find out?”

Italy asks in confusion his head cocked to the side gazing at the Norwegian nation, eyes looking straight into the others eyes before switching to stare over at Denmark who had yet to speak or even look at anyone else in the room.

“Denmark and I had just arrived home from an important business meeting and found Iceland lip locked with the freaking surly bastard!”

“Did you even ask Iceland about his feelings on the matter? Or did you ask Sweden about his intentions towards your brother?”

France asks causing Hong Kong to turn towards him in surprise, though he offers the usually flirtatious nation a grateful smile which, for reasons unbeknownst to himself, makes him blush lightly. They both turn their attentions back to Norway who flushes in embarrassment shaking his head in a negative making France smirk, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Well no, I was just doing what any responsible guardian would have done in that situation.”

China and England share a disbelieving glance before looking at Iceland who slips a hand subtly under the table reaching over to grip Hong Kong’s hand tightly in his own, arms stretching behind China’s chair, his eyes staring widely at Norway.

“You are not my guardian, you never were. I am a free nation, Independent! You were supposed to be my brother!”

“Were? I am still your brother!”

Norway almost shouts, the panic and desperation now clear in both his voice and his facial features as Iceland simply shakes his head sadly.

“A brother would never try to kidnap me. A brother would never dislocate my arm, sprain my wrist or hit me hard enough across the face that I would fall to the floor! We may share blood but you are no brother of mine.”

Iceland states coldly, as several more gasps echo once more around the otherwise silent room as nations shift in their seats as they all peer warily at the multiple bandages covering the young Nordic teen’s body before simultaneously turning to glare at the two older Nordics.

“I was trying to protect you!”

The Icelandic teen grows angrier at the other declaration, his ex-brother. Dropping Hong Kong’s hand suddenly, Iceland stands up slamming his good hand against the hard-wooden surface of the table startling Norway who stares at his brother in shock.

“From what? I had finally found someone to love me, someone who cares truly and deeply about me for simply being myself. I had found a group of people who accepted me for who I was; people who took me in, looked after me; who wouldn’t insult me and degrade me all the time simply for their own amusement or mollycoddle me like I was still some form of colony. The only ones I need protecting from is you two!”

Iceland shouts, his hands shaking with anger, jolting his shoulder minutely causing a ripple of pain to shoot down his arm but he ignores it in favour of glaring at the two ex-Vikings before slumping down into his seat tiredly.

“So, because you didn’t agree with who Iceland was in love with; who he was dating, you decided to threaten my children?”

Finland bellows, louder than Iceland could ever dream of being, the volume itself was enough to make many nations in the room jump in fright.

“It wasn’t like that Finny, Norge was just trying to protect Iceland from getting his heart broken.”

Denmark whispers, a far cry from his usual decibel, but he was feeling conflicted wondering if what they had down was for the best after all.

“I get that but I don’t understand how either of you thought this would be beneficial for Islanti, you do remember that I dated Ruotsi for decades, right? I mean, your blinded actions resulted in your supposed little brother not eating or sleeping for days because you forced Ruotsi to break of their relationship Islanti suffered through a heartbreak you were trying to prevent. You both made him feel underappreciated with the people he called family by telling him that his own decisions were wrong and only you knew what would be best for him.”

Finland continues, disappointment coating his tone as he strokes a hand through Sealand’s hair gently, the young boy having ran away from England a short while ago.

“He still should have told me at the beginning, we could have discussed it.”

Norway states, a slight whine in his voice trying to get the Finnish man to understand that he only had Iceland’s best in mind.

“Is that not a bit hypocritical of you, Norvège?”

France coos, a smirk crossing his features as Norway stares, startled by the inquiry.

“What do you mean?”

Iceland questions, his voice small and unsure.

“Well, you see Islande, it appears that your dear older brother, oh sorry, ex-brother, is angry at you because you did not inform him as soon as you had begun dating Sweden, oui?”

Iceland nods his head to the Frenchman’s question wondering if he really wants to know the meaning behind his earlier words now.

“I can bet that he has not told you about his own relationship with a certain Danish neighbour.”

Iceland stares, his eyes wide with shock, at the French nation, his anger fading to a slow burning most of it being turned into a deep hurt as tears shine in his eyes as his gaze switches between Norway and Denmark, feeling the ache in his chest expand at the matching blushes dusting their cheeks.

“Is this true, Noregur? You went off on me for keeping my relationship a secret when you have been doing the same thing to me?”

England looks over when he hears Iceland’s voice crack, seeing the watery gaze as tears gather in the corners of violet eyes at a faster rate, threatening to overflow at any given second and the betrayal swirling deep within, a feeling he, himself was all too familiar with. He pulls the younger nation into his lap without a second thought.

Iceland, not really paying attention to the happening in the room around him, hadn’t seen when Sealand had slipped away to Finland but was grateful for the chance to soak up the comfort England was willingly offering as he snuggles into the embrace allowing himself to relax minutely.

“þakka pér, Faðir.”

The island nation smiles softly down at the injured teenager in his arms, ignoring the multiple surprised looks from around the table as he places a kiss to the white-blond hair, brushing his fingers gently up and down the younger nation’s arm hoping to calm him down further.

“Shhh, Barnið mitt. There is no need for you to thank me, Sweetie.”

Norway, who is silently watching the interaction, grows red with frustration at the natural familial display; jealously spiking because he knows that the youngest had never acted like this in the company of the Nordics. He jumps up from his seat making it teeter for a few seconds, easily evading Denmark’s attempts to grab his arm as he stomps across the small distance separating himself from his younger brother. Before anyone else can react, the Norwegian violently pull the Icelandic nation out of England’s grip, ignoring the sickening crack which echoes through the hall as Iceland’s head hits against the table sharply. Nor does he register the cry of pain as all Iceland’s weight lands on his bandaged arm.

All nations stand up in alarm at the harsh act, each one staring in varying degrees of shock at, not only seeing such strong emotions being displayed upon the Norwegian’s features but also at having to witness such a violence against his own brother.

Before they have a chance to pull themselves from their stupors, Sweden is stalking over to the pair grapping hold of the wrist which was gripping Iceland as soon as he gets close enough. He, without a care, twists Norway’s arm painfully until the man relinquishes his hold on the younger nation, who wastes no time in pulling himself to his feet and scurrying over to China. The Asian nation quickly secures the teenager in his arms, arranging Iceland comfortably across his lap as sobs begin to rack his frame.

England shifts, moving so that he is now sitting in the chair Iceland vacated, wrapping his arm around China’s shoulders at the same time Hong Kong is rubbing his younger brother’s back soothingly.

“You will not take your anger or frustration out on Island; do you want to push him away more than you already have? He needs to know that there are other nations out there that he can rely on outside of us four.”

Sweden’s voice runs through the room as nations slowly begin to take their seats again, many pausing to shoot daggers at Norway.

“Su-san is right. We have been so horrible to Islanti and none of us even realised until he had disappeared. No, think about it Norja. You are so over-protective that you have to know where Islanti is, who he is with, and who he talks to all the time. Otherwise, you confine him to the house like some criminal; some prisoner.”

Norway puts his head down in shame, knowing that both Finland and Sweden were right in what they were saying, despite how much he wants to protest. It made his chest ache with regret as Iceland’s painfilled sobs echo in his mind reminding him that the noise was also all his own fault.

Finland turns his disappointed gaze towards an equally ashamed Dane, who is positive he already knows what the Finnish man is going to say and braces himself for the worst.

“Denmark, all of those senseless comments, even if you say them as a joke, when heard constantly for centuries, can really chip away at a person’s self-worth and confidence. Have you even noticed how Islanti now refuses to even be in the same room alone with you or how he tries to avoid spending as much time with us anymore? You guys need to back off otherwise, all you will succeed in doing will be driving Ice away and you will only have yourselves to blame.”

Most other nations are staring nodding their heads in agreement by the time Finland stops talking to his fellow Nordics, though many of the less experienced countries are staring at the Finnish nation in both awe and fear and go so far as to clap his speech, even as the small blond takes to staring at Denmark and Norway fiercely, who were still looking at the floor feeling suitably cowed and embarrassed.

“I know you are not comfortable with the thought of Iceland and I dating, you have shown that already but I do love Iceland and would never do anything to intentionally hurt him. You never even gave me a chance to explain anything to you.”

Sweden mutters and then deposits Norway back down onto the chair he had recently vacated next to Denmark before walking back to his own chair, pulling Ladonia into his lap once more when the boy raises his arms in silent asking.

England shoots a quick, barely noticeable smile across to the Swedish nation before turning a softened expression to Iceland who had stopped crying during the taller nations words to Norway. Though the teenager tries to return the gesture through his occasional hiccups and sniffles, he makes no such effort to extract himself from the Chinese man’s embrace.

Hong Kong places a kiss to China’s cheek before moving around to instead sit next to his father who instantly wraps his free arms around the teens shoulders once he leans into the man’s side, watching his brother in all but blood contently. Sighing happily when calloused fingers brush through his brown locks, a kiss fluttering against his forehead.

“Alright, seen as it appears that we are finished with the questioning, I am now officially calling this meeting to a close. Please make sure you have all documents pertaining the issues discussed and I will see you all at the meeting next week.”

England calls after a couple of moments pass by in silence, all occupants lost within their own thoughts either sorting through the information they had gather from the Nordic nations or trying to figure out the relationship dynamics between England, China, Hong Kong, and Iceland.

The attending countries are quick to abandon said thoughts in favour of packing up their belongings before hurriedly making their way out into the hallway each sending a cheerful goodbye to the small mismatched family and/or a dark glare towards Norway and Denmark who still were refusing to lift their gazes from the carpet.

Finland and Sweden were the some of the last to move, each holding one of their children in their arms securely, Sealand gripping tightly to Finland’s shirts as Ladonia snuggles into Sweden’s chest contently.

“Ah. Sweden, Finland, we were just about to head home for some dinner if you would like to join us, aru?”

China offers as he helps a pale Iceland to stand, handing the teen a bottle of water and two painkillers from out of his bag.

“We wouldn’t want to impose…”

Finland begins, shifting Sealand in his arms.

“Nonsense, Yao insisted on cooking this evening and trust me when I say you would not want to miss is. Besides you would not be imposing if we are the ones inviting you over.”

England comments as he leans over to place a lingering kiss on the Asian nation’s lips who in turn blushes brightly, offering a shy smile to the smirking Englishman he places a chaste kiss to the Blond’s cheek ignoring the playful gagging sounds emanating from a grinning Hong Kong and Iceland.

”Such a charmer, aru.”

The Chinese nation murmurs his eyes twinkling with such a depth of affection that England blushes, turning his face away as he coughs in embarrassment, drawing a chuckle from his husband.

“Well in you insist, I haven’t had some of China’s home cooking in decades.”

Finland informs cheerfully as Sweden merely grunts in agreement sending a sly smirk to Iceland who flushes in pleasure.

“Ummm Faðir? I think Frakklandi wants to talk to you…”

Iceland mutters quietly sending a little, shy smile and a wave towards the French nation who returns the gesture, fidgeting in place as everyone in their group turns to stare at the nervous man.

England waves the other nation over with an exasperated sigh, not wanting to deal with France’s flirting after the events of the past couple of days. He wraps an arm around China’s waist pulling the smaller male into his side as France hurriedly scurries over, cheeks colouring, eyes on the floor.

“What do you want, Francis?”

France takes a deep breath, the use of his human name giving him the courage to lift his gaze in order to meet the emerald shine of England’s.

“Mon ami, je suis désolé. I ummm well that is… I …”

He stammers, feeling uneasy with the number of eyes watching him, scrutinising everything he appears to be doing and saying.

“Spit it out!”

“Would you allow for me to attend as well, S’il vous plait?”

England raises an eyebrow at the verbal vomit, feeling ever so slightly amused by the speed at which France manages to speak such a request. Exchanging a glance with China who shrugs, a gesture to be taken to mean he wasn’t averse to the idea and sighs once more.

“And why would you want to sit down to a meal with any of us, Francis?”

It was quick and a subtle action but England narrows his eyes suspiciously when he catches the French nation’s eyes flicker, almost subconsciously, towards Hong Kong, a blush lightly dusting the man’s cheeks. The island nation narrows his eyes further, eyebrows furrowing as he glares at his long-term friend who is quick to throw his hands up showing the international sign of surrender. His blue eyes wide and full of helpless confusion with a hint of desperation.

England can feel himself giving in as he gazes into his neighbour’s worried, almost panicked, expression once he realises that this, whatever this was, wasn’t simply on of the Frenchman’s usual flings.

“I just want to talk, mon ami. I will behave Arthur, je promets!”

Sincerity joins the swirling emotions in cerulean eyes and England takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, part in resignation and part in relief; nodding his head in consent the island nation is taken aback by the beaming smile France directs his way.

“Merci, mon ami!”

“Yes well, don’t make me regret this, Francis. I will be watching you.”

“Oui, of course, Arthur. I will be on my very best behaviour!”

China smiles, watching with barely concealed amusement as Hong Kong’s eyes lock onto the flirtatious blond, scanning his movements and his expression, watching with intrigue. Amber orbs taking in the man’s form from head to toe sparkling in appreciation.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Icelandic  
> Morgunn - Morning  
> Noregur - Norway  
> Pakka Per - Thank you  
> Fadir - Father  
> Barnid Mitt - My Son  
> Frakklandi - France  
> Chinese  
> Yase - Arthur  
> Spanish  
> Ninos - Children  
> Norwegian  
> Sverige - Sweden  
> Lillebror - Little Brother  
> German  
> Schweden - Sweden  
> Cantonese  
> Seoi Din - Sweden  
> Bing Dou - Iceland  
> Finnish  
> Islanti - Iceland  
> Ruotsi - Sweden  
> Norja - Norway  
> Swedish  
> Island - Iceland  
> French  
> Norvege - Norway  
> Islande - Iceland  
> Oui - Yes  
> Je Promets - I promise  
> Mon ami - My friend  
> Je suis desole - I am sorry  
> S'il Vous Plait - Please  
> Merci - Thank you


End file.
